


The Shield

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Bodyguard, Bodyguard Romance, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I tried to make it a slow burn, Mystery, Thriller, but I don't really think the tag is adecuate, you'll see why - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-07 12:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 72,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21458380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Meg would like nothing more than not to be a part of her father's world of political intrigues, but when someone threatens her and the rest of their family, Senator Masters insists on her having a bodyguard. Though reluctant at first to let Castiel Milton, a divorced, penniless vet, into her orderly, structured life, and embarrassed enough to lie about him to all of her friends, Meg ends up discovering maybe Castiel can help her let go of things she's been holding on for far too long... and that he will be a shield for her when her life ends up on the line.
Relationships: Billie/Rowena MacLeod, Castiel/Meg Masters, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Tom/Ruby, past Meg Masters/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40
Collections: Megstiel Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of the Megstiel Big Bang challenge. Special thanks to my artist, Angel, and my Beta, Dakota!

Meg was up before her alarm clock rang.

The moment she stretched her hand to turn it off, she knew right away that it was going to be one of those days. She barely slept at all the previous night and her back and legs were hurting slightly, and it would probably get worse as the day progressed. A part of her wanted to call in sick and stay in bed, warm and secure underneath her blankets, but after giving herself a small pep talk, she kicked them aside.

She walked past by the cane that leaned against the wall without even casting a glance in its direction.

She prepared her shots in the bathroom and injected herself in the thigh. It had become part of her routine to the point she could do it even when her mind was still on autopilot. In fact, it took another twenty minutes for her to actually feel awake, during which she brushed her teeth, changed and made breakfast. Eggs, orange juice, black coffee with no cream or sugar.

She only started being aware of the world around her when she finally sat down and started eating. And the first thing she was aware of, sadly, was that her phone showed two missed calls from Cecily. It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet. What could her father’s assistant possibly want?

She groaned and decided not to call her back. She turned on the TV to check the morning news while she gulfed down her breakfast.

“… it was confirmed that the incumbent senator is going to be challenged by freshman Congressman Sam Winchester, who made waves last year ago when he…”

She turned it off. That was enough news for the day.

Her phone rang, once again displaying Cecily’s name on the screen. Meg sighed deeply and looked at the ceiling to gather her patience before she finally deigned to pick up.

“It’s seven thirty in the morning,” she said, without even greeting her.

“I am very sorry to disturb you this early, Miss Masters…”

“Doctor Masters,” Meg corrected her, not for the first time. Her father’s minions seem to consistently forget her title and it irritated her to no end.

“Doctor Masters, of course,” Cecily said. Meg thought she detected a hint of sarcasm in her tone, but the assistant continued before she could say anything about it: “Senator Masters needed to talk to you about an urgent business that concerns your family…”

Meg bit the inside of her cheek. Really? Her father had run unopposed for the last three elections, and now that he was getting a challenger, somebody it was the whole family’s business? They had done the whole “happy nuclear family” thing for the press when she was a teenager and he was running for office for the first time, but she doubted it was going to work now.

She preferred not to think that he was calling her on account on who his opponent was.

“Well, if it’s so urgent, tell him to call me himself.”

“He wanted to talk to you face to face. Your brother is coming to see him this afternoon and he wanted you to join them…”

“What, do I need to make an appointment to see my own father?” Meg asked. She was growing increasingly frustrated with this entire conversation. “Especially when he is the one who wants to see me?”

Cecily was disarmed for a moment.

“You have to understand: he is a very busy man…”

“I am busy too,” Meg interrupted her. “Right now, I am leaving for work, where I will be busy all morning. Probably a good chunk of the afternoon too. So, if he wants to see me, I suggest he adjusts to my schedule instead of demanding I adjust to his. You can tell him that verbatim.”

She ended the call before Cecily could protest.

Pettily, she felt a little better afterwards. There was a certain small vindication in knowing that her father, as much as he would like to think so, didn’t have complete control over her life now that she was a grown ass woman.

She picked up her briefcase and walked towards the elevator. She managed to do so without tripping over her own feet or having to hold onto any walls, so she considered that a small victory. The sun was shining high in the sky and the sky was blue. It was a perfect late spring morning. Despite herself, her early morning despair dissipated a little bit as she hailed a taxi to head to the hospital.

* * *

Castiel fell down off the couch when his cellphone’s alarm went off and well, that should’ve been an indication of how the rest of the day was going to go.

Still laying on his stomach over the carpet, he rubbed his face and pulled himself up to drag himself to the kitchen. He was going to need several cups of coffee before he was ready for his appointment that morning. While the coffee maker whirred and buzzed, he stretched his hands over his head and rubbed his neck. Anna’s couch wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place in the entire world, but he was lucky she’d let him stay there while he got back on his feet.

That had been a couple months ago, and it was actually surprising that it had taken this long for Anna to start dropping hints that Castiel needed to “start contributing” around the house. Castiel had fixed the lamps, the kitchen counter and the leaky pipes, he had varnished the furniture and he went shopping to the local farmer’s market and made Anna healthy foods from scratch. But he supposed it was only fair that he contributed economically as well.

He added some sugar to his coffee and drank it down still hot before he marched into the bathroom. He made sure that he was clean shaven; he couldn’t show up to his job interview looking like, in Anna’s words, “a depressed hobo”. Castiel also agreed with that, which was why he had sent his one suit to the dry cleaning and borrowed a blue tie from Gabriel.

“The Senator is very impressed with your resume, Captain Milton,” the personal assistant he’d talked about on the phone had told him.

“Please, just… ‘Mr. Milton’ is fine,” Castiel had said. He got a little squeamish when people used his rank to refer to him. “I have been discharged.”

“We know, Captain Milton,” the assistant had replied, as if Castiel hadn’t said a single word. “Senator Masters would like to interview you personally. Is Monday okay for you?”

He supposed he should count himself lucky. It was this or finding another shooting range to work at, and well… he wanted nothing that reminded him of the life he’d had before coming to the city.

Anna exited the room, still in her pajamas and with her flaming red hair in disarray, and gave him a once over.

“Looking sharp,” she said, nodding approvingly as she passed him by and went straight for the coffee.

“Thank you,” Castiel replied, fidgeting with the tie. Those clothes made him slightly uncomfortable, but he needed to look the part. “Hopefully, the Senator will think the same thing.”

Anna took a sip of her coffee and raised a finger, the way she did when she wanted to keep Castiel’s attention.

“Speaking of, I’ve been doing some reading,” she said. “Did you know his daughter is a neuroscientist graduated from Stanford and…?”

“Anna,” Castiel interrupted her with a sigh. “I’m sure I will be given all the information necessary when I’m actually hired.”

Anna narrowed her eyes at him.

“You didn’t even let me get to the juicy gossip part!”

Castiel smiled despite himself. Anna was an investigative journalist; it was in her nature to gather as much information as she could from anyone she or anyone from their family came into contact with. She had always been curious and inquisitive… which were virtues that weren’t exactly encouraged in a pastor’s family. He knew she loved him and the rest of their siblings dearly, but she’d never quite fit in with the rest of them, which was perhaps why she’d never come back to their hometown after she graduated from college.

Then again, he’d done everything he thought would please their father and he’d still ended up sleeping on a couch, penniless and divorced, so maybe Anna had the right idea all along.

He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to dwell on his regrets that particular morning. He finished his second cup of coffee and stood up.

“Wish me luck in the interview.”

“Good luck!” she said. “Even though you’re going to be working for one of the worst senators ever!”

“His money is just as green as if he was one of the good ones,” Castiel replied as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

He needn’t have bothered. It was a beautiful day outside, sunny and warm, the kind of day that would’ve been perfect to walk around the fields and watch the bees at work.

He shook those thoughts from his head. He bought a newspaper from the stand in the corner and stalked towards the bus stop, hoping public transit wouldn’t make him too late.

* * *

The morning was looking up.

Meg read the papers in front of her carefully. She didn’t conduct the interviews with the test subjects herself. She had delegated that part of to several overeager doctors fresh out of their residency who were trying to impress her by taking very detailed notes of everything they observed. Meg had lost her bedside manners after several years of working in the lab, so she preferred to stay there and punch the results in, take new notes and adjusts several different doses to see how they work out.

She’d managed to secure a grant for her research, in no small part because of who her father was, but sometimes she convinced herself that it was because her work was important. That day, for example, she was pleased to see that many of the results she expected had actually come to fruition: the patients reported less tremors, less falls, less dizziness, less secondary effects.

It was working. If the results kept being as good as they were now…

A loud thud startled her. Rowena, her research partner, had just walked in and settled a bunch of papers right next to her computer.

“Your lunch break started twenty minutes ago,” she said in her trademark Scottish accent, as she sat down on the chair next to Meg.

“Did it?” Meg checked the time in her computer, only to confirm what she already knew: that Rowena was right. She also had an email from her father’s office that she promptly deleted without reading. “I got distracted.”

Rowena hummed disapprovingly sound as she tied back her curly red hair back.

“You know, you could do all of that from the comfort of your home,” she said, pointing at the mountain of notes that Meg had been sifting through. “You don’t need to come in every single day.”

“Maybe,” Meg said, with a shrug. “But have you considered that staying home all day is going to drive me up the wall?”

Rowena laughed. They’d been friends for years and she knew exactly how restless Meg got if she didn’t have anything to do. She needed a case, a mission, something to focus all of her energy on or else she ended up doing crazy stuff. Like writing new possible variables for her experiment and changing them all overnight because she thought the idea she had at three in the morning was simply brilliant.

“Well, you won’t be able to focus on anything if you don’t at least put some food in yourself,” Rowena told her. “So you might as well go do that now.”

Meg sighed. She would have much preferred to keep working, but Rowena had a point.

“I hate the food from the cafeteria,” she complained still.

“Then go eat somewhere else.” Rowena rolled her eyes. She was definitely not taking any crap from Meg that day. “Come on, I’ll hold the fort here for an hour.”

Meg considered arguing with her and pushing through without eating anyway. Her back was hurting again, though, and she couldn’t take her meds on an empty stomach. If only for that, she stood up and took off her lab coat.

“I’ll be back before two.”

“I’m sure you will,” Rowena said as she started reading her own reports on the control group.

They both knew that meant Meg fully intended to be back before one thirty. She took the elevator and headed for the exit. There was a small deli just two blocks away and she could walk that distance easily. She was still a little tired, but it was a very nice day and walking was good for her after all. Besides, they had some great tuna sandwiches that she could…

She stopped on her tracks as soon as she realized who was waiting for her on the parking lot.

“Come on!” she exclaimed, frustrated. “Don’t tell me you’re in on this too!”

Tom, her older brother, was leaning calmly against his car, looking at her behind his aviator glasses. As always, he was wearing a leather jacket, there was stubble on his cheek and his hair was tousled to offer the image of the perfect bad boy. Meg wondered how much longer he’d planned on remaining there before he walked inside the hospital to look for her because he got tired of waiting.

“Sorry, Meg,” he said, with a little shrug. “Dad says it’s urgent.”

“So, he says jump and you ask how high? Since when?”

“Just get in the car,” Tom sighed, opening the door for her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be this insistent if it wasn’t important.”

Meg was tempted to keep walking and make Tom follow her, but then, she couldn’t walk that fast and she knew it would be no good. She was stubborn, but that was a characteristic she’d inherited from her father, so it was better if she simply gave in before it escalated to people dropping by at her apartment.

“Fine,” she groaned. She got inside the car and adjusted the seat belt while Tom walk around. Once he’d sat behind the wheel, she added: “But if this is for something stupid, like a surprise party for mom’s birthday that is actually a fundraising…”

“Come on, that was one time and dad learned from his mistake,” Tom said. He made a pause. “I hope.”

* * *

It turned Castiel shouldn’t have worried about being late. He arrived five minutes before the interview was to take place, but they still made him wait at the reception. He sat down and leafed through the newspaper, distractedly at first, then stopping to read more and more articles as the minutes ticked by. He was in the middle of reading his horoscope when a short, brunette woman in a black pantsuit came out of the office with a clipboard and called his name.

“Captain Milton?”

“Please, just Mr. Milton is fine,” Castiel said.

“Right.” The brunette woman smiled at him and extended a hand. “I’m Cecily. We spoke on the phone.”

Castiel could have deduced that from her insistence on using his rank despite him asking her not to. He shook her hand and smiled at her anyway.

“The Senator will see you now. Oh, excuse me,” she added when they took one step towards the door. “You need to be searched before you can go in.”

Two men in black suits and shades stared down at him. Castiel extended his hands and let them thoroughly pat him down. Senator Masters must have been very paranoid if he had his bodyguards inspect his other potential bodyguard.

Once they were sure he wasn’t a threat, they finally moved aside and let him advance into an office that was easily larger than Anna’s entire apartment. It had a very expensive red carpet on the floor and large windows that overlooked the city. Or maybe they would have, if the shades hadn’t been drawn.

Senator Masters himself was standing behind a mahogany desk, reading something in front of him. Castiel recognized his grey hair and pointed nose from the times he’d seen him give interviews on TV. He looked much taller in person, or perhaps he just looked taller than the stout man next to him.

“It’s just early polls, Az,” the man said, with a slight Scottish accent. “The election is still a year away. There’s plenty of time to reverse this…”

Senator Masters didn’t seem all that convinced by that argument. However, when he heard Castiel approach the desk, his frown of concern turned into a welcoming smile as his strange amber eyes lit up.

“Ah, you must be Captain Milton,” he said.

Castiel gave up.

“Senator Masters,” he replied, respectfully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The senator walked around his desk and extended a hand to Castiel. His shake was firm and confident.

“The pleasure’s all mine. And may I just say, thank you for your service, sir.”

Castiel hoped his smile hadn’t become tense. He hated that remark and he was glad Senator Masters moved on from it quickly.

“This is my campaign manager, Fergus Crowley,” he added, gesturing towards the shorter man, who also shook Castiel’s hand, but clearly his heart wasn’t in it. He barely looked at him before he turned to the senator again.

“Well, Az, call me up when this is over so we can go over the numbers again,” he said.

“Of course. We’re still golfing this Sunday?”

Crowley assured him they were and promptly left the office.

“Have a seat, please,” Senator Masters said, pointing at the armchair in front of his desk.

So finally, the moment of truth had come.

Castiel sat down in front of Senator Masters with his back straight and his chin up, trying to look professional and slightly intimidating. That was what was expected of a bodyguard, right? He'd only briefly perused the instruction videos and manuals that Balthazar had sent him before recommending him to the senator, figuring he could pay more attention to them if and when he got the job.

He was deeply regretting that decision now. He felt like a student showing up for an exam he hadn't prepared for at all.

If Senator Masters noticed how nervous Castiel was, he showed no signs of it.

"As my secretary must have informed you, I am interested in hiring your services to protect my daughter," he started. "She is a very private person who is dedicated to her job, so in the past I have had no reason to believe that she was in danger because of mine."

"I take it this has changed," Castiel said.

Instead of answering, Senator Masters picked up a box from underneath his desk and settled it on top.

"I am used to receiving my fair share of... uncomfortable messages from disgruntled voters or unhinged people who disapprove of the way I try to serve my country," he explained, as he opened the box and started extracting several manila envelopes from it. "Most of them, we can discard easily. They constitute no real threat or they're far too vague to be considered as such. The ones we believe are credible threats, we hand to the authorities to deal with." He pushed the manila envelopes towards Castiel. "We've done the same in this case, but they are different."

Castiel opened the envelope, his curiosity piqued as to why Senator Masters was taking so long to get to the point. It became obvious as soon as he spread the contents over the desk so he could analyze them better.

They were pictures, mostly, taken from a distance of the same three people: a willowy blonde woman as she came out from a shopping mall carrying several bags or ran in the park with other women the same age, a brunette man a little younger than Castiel coming out of a bar with a woman hanging from each of his arms or having lunch in a restaurant and, finally, a brunette woman in a white coat talking to other doctors at the entrance of a hospital.

Castiel wished now that he had listened to Anna's "juicy gossip" about the Senator's daughter, but he still could deduce enough of what was going on.

"They're threatening your family."

Senator Masters nodded. There was nothing in his expression that gave away the charismatic man that was always trying to seduce voters or convince opponents to see things his way. On the contrary, his jaw was tense and there was a deep frown between his eyebrows. He was the embodiment of the worried father.

"These are copies from the pictures that were sent to me. I asked the investigators if I could keep some in order to make my wife and children see the kind of danger they are in." He made a pause and then sighed deeply. "You must understand, Captain Milton. I knew being threatened came with the territory when I first ran for my seat. I am used to it and I accept it. But if there is one thing that I care about more than I do my country, that is my family."

Castiel had the strange feeling that was a well-rehearsed line.

"You think they're threatening them to prevent you from running?"

"That is the theory the FBI is handling right now," Senator Masters said. "However, nothing else is known at this point. They were the ones who suggested I should get extra security for myself and those I care about. My son is an actor and has assured me that he can hire his own security service. As for my daughter..."

Before he could continue, there was a knock at the door. The two bodyguards next to it stood up. Castiel took note of how they placed themselves between the door and Senator Masters, even when the person that came in was just Cecily.

"Senator, your children are here," she announced.

"Excellent. Let them in, please."

The door opened a little wider and two people walked in: the brunette man and the doctor. The bodyguards stood on their way almost automatically.

The doctor raised her head at them, her eyebrow crooked in an expression of pure contempt.

"Really?" she asked.

Castiel couldn't have told why, but her voice surprised him. It was almost a raspy whisper, and for some reason, it made her sound extra irritated when she turned to her father:

"Can you call your dogs off, father dear?"

"Boys, I think we can forgo the weapons search on my own children," Senator Masters said. The bodyguards obediently stepped to the side.

Doctor Masters stalked inside the office, her eyes settled on her father and ignoring Castiel's presence altogether. He took that moment to assess her. She was about a head shorter than him, dressed in black trousers and a lavender blouse, with her wavy brown hair tied up in a sensible bun behind her head. Her face was round and pale, and she didn't seem to be wearing any make-up that he could notice, but Anna had told him he was very bad at telling those things, so he could be wrong.

What he did notice, though, was the way she walked: planting one foot firmly in front of her before taking the next step, almost as if she was afraid the floor would drop from under her if she didn't walk carefully enough. Despite this, she still sounded confident and almost forceful when she planted herself in front of her father's desk and demanded to know:

"Well, what is this all about?"

"Meg, I would like you to meet Captain Castiel Milton," Senator Masters said, pointing towards him. "He is going to be your bodyguard from now on."

There were two reasons this stunned Castiel into complete silence. The first one was that Senator Masters had not yet informed him that he had been formally hired for the position. He simply had decided he was and expected Castiel to go along with it.

The second reason was that Doctor Meg Masters turned towards him, stared at him for two seconds... and then promptly burst into laughter.

* * *

Her father had said and done ridiculous things before, but this one definitely took the cake.

"What the hell do I need a bodyguard for?" she asked, rolling her eyes after Captain Castiel Milton (what kind of douche name was that? It sounded fake) had been escorted out of the office so they could talk alone. "It's not like I have an army of psychotic fans running after me to get my autograph."

"Hey, don't disparage them," Tom said. "Those psychotic fans pay my bills."

"Children. Could you pay attention?" Azazel asked, apparently frustrated that they weren't taking him seriously.

It was just that it was very hard to do that to begin with. So, someone had snatched pictures of her while she was walking down the street or talking to her colleagues, big fucking deal. It wasn't the first time her privacy had been disrespected because of who her father was.

"You remember that time Tom and I went to that sorority party and had a little too much to drink?"

"Oh, yeah." A beam appeared on Tom's face. "Good times."

"The following day there was a video of us stumbling drunk all over the Internet. 'Senator's children out of control'," Meg reminded him, rolling her eyes. "How is this any different?"

Azazel rubbed his temples as if having her marched into his office to announce she was having an ex-marine assigned to her as a glorified babysitter was somehow too much of an ordeal for him.

"It's different because this isn't about you, Meg."

"It's never about us," Meg replied. "It's always about you and your mission and your plans..."

She hoped her tone hadn't sounded as bitter out loud as it did in her head.

Her father gave her a stern look, the same he used to give her when she failed a class or disappointed him in any other way.

"Meg, when I chose this path..."

"Oh, spare me," she interrupted him. "I'm not dealing with some random guy following me around all day just because you're a little paranoid."

"I'm not a little paranoid. The investigators believe this to be a credible threat," Azazel insisted. "And he is not going to follow you around all day. He'll just accompany you from home to the hospital and vice versa to make sure that you're safe..."

"So, he's not a glorified babysitter. He's a glorified chauffer."

Her father didn't appreciate her very clever quip.

"Meg, I know you have been going through a lot these last couple of years..."

Meg crossed her arms over chest and looked up at the ceiling, wishing she'd stayed at the hospital cafeteria, as terrible as their food was. Then Tom wouldn't have ambushed her in the parking lot and brought her here to listen to these platitudes.

"... I have tried giving you space. Your mother and I have respected all of your decisions, even the ones we didn't really understand..."

"Oh, my God," Meg muttered, but if he started talking about what he called her "questionable decisions", she was going to start screaming.

“… and I am, in no way, suggesting you change anything about your way of life right now,” Azazel continued, ignoring how Meg was looking around, trying to find an open window to jump from. “The job you’re doing is important and I’m proud of you for doing it. This… this is just for my peace of mind. Until the investigation is closed, and we know who is sending these threats, please, just have someone to take care of you.”

Meg bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed. What her father didn’t seem to get was the fact she wasn’t just annoyed at having a bodyguard assigned to her. It was that he had already hired the bodyguard and simply expected her to go along with it without asking too many questions. It was like when he first ran for the state all over again: he never considered his wife’s wishes, never considered that uprooting their children in the middle of the school year could be hard, never considered that they were going to be pestered and scrutinized for everything they did while he was in the public eye…

If he had called her (_actually_ called her, not have his secretary try to set an appointment for her) and explained the threats to her and whatnot, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so annoyed. But her father was a petty tyrant who thought he knew better for everyone around him, so what did she expect?

“Can I at least talk with the guy? Decide if I like having him around or not for who knows how long?”

Azazel narrowed his amber eyes at her, as if the fact he liked him was already guarantee enough that Meg would too, but he pressed a button on the intercom and told Cecily to send “Captain Milton” in again.

Meg had barely glanced at the guy before, only taken in his dark hair and his sharp dark suit and tie. She wondered if he had to dress like a dork all the time. She didn’t want to have him standing very straight with sunglasses inside like her father’s bodyguard seemed to wear even though it made them look like absolute douches. She stood up, holding unto the back of the armchair so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall on her face (because, honestly, how much more humiliating could this entire ordeal get?), and faced the guy.

“Captain Milton,” she greeted him.

He had very bright blue eyes and a strong jaw that he clenched a little when she called him that.

“Ma’am,” he said, bowing a little as if she was some kind of royalty.

“Doctor,” Meg corrected him automatically. God, if he had the same hang-ups as Cecily about calling her by her damn proper title, they were going to have a problem. She didn’t bust her damn ass for ten years in Med school and several post-doctorates for people not to call her a doctor.

“Doctor Masters,” he accepted, without too much fuss, which was actually a point in his favor. “I understand we’ll be working close together.”

“Actually, I’ll be working, and you’ll be standing around pestering me, seems to be the case.”

She heard Azazel groaning behind her, but she didn’t turn to look at him. She was more interested in gaging Milton’s reaction to her.

And his reaction was… none at all. He simply raised his eyebrows a little bit, but when talked, his voice was monotone, almost bored. He had a deep voice that Meg didn’t exactly hate listening to.

“Of course, I will absolutely try not to pester you,” he said. “Your hospital counts with its own security, does it not? I won’t need to be around while you work there.”

“And what if I want to go out for lunch with my research partner outside of the hospital?” Meg asked. “Because I do that sometimes, you know. I have a life.”

That wasn’t exactly true. It was more like it had been today: with Rowena reminded her she needed to eat to live and Meg begrudgingly going to get something.

“You could call me, and I would drive you to wherever you need to go,” Captain Milton replied. “I have no problem doing this.”

“Do you have a car?”

“I will provide a car,” Azazel intervened.

Meg wasn’t done with her interrogation yet.

“I’m an insomniac. Sometimes I leave my apartment at three in the morning to do my shopping. Would you show up at three in the morning if I call you?”

Captain Milton was taken aback by this, but only briefly.

“I’m sure we can work out some sort of system so you wouldn’t need to be leaving your place at such hours.”

“What, do I text you my grocery list and you go fetch it for me?”

He shrugged and Meg tried and failed to bite back a smile. How desperate was this guy for a job that he was willing to be her errand boy?

“So, you would get everything I ask you to? My coffee, my preferred milk? My tampons?”

She heard Azazel sighing exasperatedly, but Captain Milton’s expression remained blank.

“I have two sisters and an ex-wife,” he informed her. “It wouldn’t be the first time I was tasked with buying tampons.”

Dammit, he was making it really hard to dislike him. Meg was still willing to try, on principle.

“So you’re a vet, huh? Where did you serve?”

“Iraq. Three tours.”

“Should I thank you for your service or do you hate it when people who don’t actually care for the vets say hypocritical shit like that?”

“Marjorie!” Azazel shouted, indignantly.

Meg ignored him, though. She was way more interested in the way Captain Milton covered his mouth and let out a cough that was definitely a suffocated chuckle.

Damn, so maybe he wasn’t such a stick in the mud as he appeared at first glance. He also was very easy on the eyes, not that she cared for that sort of thing. It was just that if he was going to be riding her ass 24/7 on her father’s orders, he might as well be pleasant to look at.

“Alright, fine,” she concluded, turning towards Azazel. “But only until the investigation is complete and they find that these are completely empty threats to begin with.”

“That’s all I ask from you, thank you,” Azazel said. He stood up with a grin upon his face. Meg hated that she’d let him win this round, but she was not ready to throw up a stink over this just yet. “You will start immediately, Captain Milton. Cecily will provide you with a car and you can check Meg’s schedule with her later, so you’ll know when and where she needs you to pick her up and drop her off…”

“Seriously, dad?” Meg cringed.

“Have you eaten? Let me treat you both to lunch.”

Meg had to stop and consider the possibility that one of the reasons she was so cranky was because she was starving.

Azazel sent them out outside while he picked up some things and Cecily handed Captain Milton a bunch of papers that he needed to fill out to begin his job, effective immediately. Meg felt her back was aching a little and she had to stop and wonder if that psychosomatic or not while she leaned against Cecily’s desk and watch her new bodyguard hunched over the forms.

“Do I have to call you Captain Milton?” she asked him.

“Just Castiel is fine. My friends call me Cas,” he said. He lifted up his eyes at her. “Do I have to call you Doctor Masters?”

“I would prefer if you did, yes.”

She thought he was going to protest or make a sarcastic comment about it, but he merely nodded and continued filling his forms with a curt “Very well”.

“Can I ask you something?” Meg continued pestering him, perhaps because she was bored while Azazel finished doing whatever it was that he was doing. “Why the hell would you want to be a bodyguard?”

“It’s a paycheck.” Immediately after saying this, Castiel grimaced to himself and looked up. “But of course, I’ll do my best to keep you safe, Doctor Masters.”

“Yeah, safe.” Meg rolled her eyes. “Are you going to check under my bed and inside my closet to make sure the monsters won’t get me at night?”

“Or your father’s political enemies.”

There was really nothing Meg could answer to that. The man’s brand of sense of humor was to either take everything literally or at least to pretend he did.

Azazel walked out of his office, followed by his very own men in black.

“Meg, are you ready?” he asked.

Meg moved away from the desk… a little too fast and without paying enough attention to where she put her feet.

She experienced a second of absolute panic, the knowledge that she was going to fall on her face in front of her father and he would give her _the look_ and… shit, shit, shit…

A strong, large hand closed around her elbow, stabilizing her. Meg managed to get her feet to stand firmly on the ground again and the pit in her stomach disappeared as soon as it had appeared.

She looked to her left. Castiel’s face remained as expressionless as before, as if he had thought nothing about the fact Meg had tripped on nothing.

“Umh… thank you,” she mumbled.

“You’re welcome.”

He let go of her, but the sensation of his grip around her arm remained, sending an uncomfortable electric current up her arm which she tried her best to ignore, just as she ignored the impulse of looking over her shoulder as she walked away with her father and her brother.

Now she was wishing she’d put on a bit more of fight before accepting him. Because goddammit, how was she supposed to deal with all of _that_ following her around?


	2. Chapter 2

“That was one long lunch break,” Rowena pointed out when Meg returned to the lab.

“Yeah, my dad intercepted me and kidnap me to have lunch with him,” Meg said, grimacing.

She hoped no one had seen the official black car that had parked right outside the hospital’s entry and that she was completely certain had remained there until she’d disappeared inside. She didn’t need any more of the rumors that said the only reason she’d got the grant because Azazel had pulled some strings. They weren’t wrong, exactly, but she had no interest in fomenting gossip about her.

“What did he want?”

Meg opened her mouth to tell her… but at the last second, she decided not to. It was humiliating enough that she’d accepted to be followed around by some guy she barely knew, even if that guy seemed so strong and handsome and funny…

No. That would be pathetic. She already knew what Rowena would say: “You only found him handsome because you hadn’t got laid in months”. And honestly, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a point.

“Talk campaign stuff,” Meg said, rolling her eyes. “You know how it gets. And this year he has an actual competitor.”

“I saw,” Rowena said, crooking an eyebrow.

Meg sighed deeply and pretended she didn’t know what it was that Rowena was asking.

“Can we talk about something more interesting? Like control groups?”

“If you want to,” Rowena said, handing her the papers.

Meg feared that she would push the issue a little more, but thankfully she didn’t, so she spent the rest of the afternoon blissfully lost in numbers and test results. It was exhausting work, but it satisfied her immensely.

Her phone chimed, distracting her from the numbers she was punching in the computer. An unknown number had sent her a text.

_>Hello, Doctor Masters. What time would you need me to pick you up at the hospital?_

Meg stared her screen, a little taken aback. She hadn’t realized that someone was going to give him her fucking personal phone number, what the…

A second message came in.

_>This is Castiel Milton, your bodyguard._

As if she’d forgotten exactly who he was after just a handful of hours. Meg stared at the ceiling for a second to gather her patience. She glanced at Rowena, who was immersed in reading her own results, and grabbed her phone to type the answer:

_>Do you have to start tonight?_

_>That is what your father said, yes_.

Meg bit the inside of her cheek to contain her anger.

_>I’m working late. I don’t know what time I’ll leave._

_>Very well. Let me know and I’ll be there in five minutes._

Meg decided she was going to duck out, get a taxi and just text him from home. That was all that he really needed, right? To know she’d got home safe and nothing else. She was sure he’d be happy that he didn’t have to escort her all the damn time.

Rowena was throwing her a curious glance she pretended not to have been as soon as Meg put her phone down and stared back at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Rowena said, turning her attention back to her screen. “Hot date?”

“It’s Thursday.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have a hot date, dearie.” Rowena shrugged.

When Meg rolled her eyes at her, Rowena just smiled. She liked teasing Meg, but she knew there were lines it was better not to cross and Meg’s love life was one of those.

At around six, Rowena stretched her hands over her head and declared she was going home.

“It’s my turn to cook dinner and Billie is going to be furious at me if I’m late for that again,” she said. “You gonna be okay here?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I might stay another hour or two.”

Rowena glared at her and Meg knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth:

“You work too hard,” she said in unison with Rowena and laughed when her partner shook her head.

“I mean it, dearie. You need to care for yourself better.”

“I do care for myself.”

And it was true. It was just that she and Rowena had a different definition of self-care. To her, it was going home to her wife, cooking dinner and probably cuddle up on the couch with her while they binged on a series or something. To Meg, self-care was working until she got a massive headache, or until her back and her legs felt uncomfortably rigid, or until her eyelids started fluttering shut without her permission. Then she could go home, eat a microwave dinner and lay down on her bed. With any luck, she’d be exhausted enough that the insomnia would only keep her awake for an hour or two instead of the entire night.

Rowena threw her another warning look, but she took off her coat and wished her good night without much fuss. Meg stayed for another hour and a half, checking and double-checking all the reports and then double-checking the work Rowena had uploaded to the drive until she had no excuse left not to go home.

She absentmindedly called an Uber on her phone before sliding her laptop and all her research inside of her briefcase. Did she have enough ramen at home? She could order take-in or perhaps…

She stopped on her tracks as soon as she stepped into the parking lot.

Castiel was leaning against a black car, holding a newspaper in front of his face. He was still wearing his black suit and he’d added a long tan coat over it, despite the night not being all that cold. Meg wondered if she’d had time to turn around and escape through the hospital’s other entry, but right then, he lifted up his head and spotted her.

He didn’t say a word, simply closed the newspaper, folded it and tucked it underneath his arm. Meg took a second to cancel her Uber ride before she moved towards him.

“Good night, Doctor Masters,” he greeted her, before he opened the passenger door for her.

Meg dropped into the seat with a sigh.

“How long have you been waiting out here?” she asked after Castiel got inside as well and closed the door.

“Not long,” he said, but Meg had the impression he was lying.

“I guess you already have my home address.”

“Yes, Cecily gave me all the pertinent information.”

“Isn’t that a little imprudent, though?” Meg asked, trying to control her exasperation. “What if you’re one of the creeps that’s stalking me to get to my dad?”

“I believe something like that would have showed up in the thorough background check they did when they first considered hiring me.”

Of course. Azazel Masters rarely left anything to chance.

She had been so busy being annoyed at the fact she couldn’t slip away that it took her a moment to notice they weren’t moving.

“Well?” she asked. “I want to go home.”

“Of course, I’ll take you there. As soon as you put on your seat belt.”

“Are you serious right now, you glorified babysitter?” she spat out, unable to control her irritation for longer. “What, you’re such an awful driver that you can’t even start the car before I strap down?”

“I can assure you I’m a prudent driver, Doctor Masters. I can’t say the same for the other drivers on the road.”

Meg resisted the urge to imitate his words in a mocking tone and just put on the seat belt. She didn’t like being treated like a goddamn child, but dammit, it seemed like this was where they were.

They drove in awkward silence. At one point, Castiel stretched his hand to turn on the radio. Meg turned it off again, only to be petty. If he was going to ask her why, she would just say she was tired and the sound gave her a headache and see if he tried to protest that. She was a fucking neuroscientist. She had dedicated her life to help others. She could turn off the radio and be bitchy if she wanted to.

Castiel said absolutely nothing and Meg was entirely too uncomfortable to back down at down point. So she just sort of sat awkwardly checking her cellphone until she read some news about Sam Winchester, freshman Congressman and Senatorial candidate, sassing some guy on Twitter and had to put it away. At which point, the only thing left for her to was talk to Castiel or look out the window and she was still pissed off, not at Castiel, but at what he represented, so staring it was.

The twenty minutes’ drive between the hospital and her home had never felt so long.

Once they parked outside, Castiel unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door and practically flew around the car to open the door for her. Perhaps he knew that Meg was going to refuse any help if he didn’t offer it fast enough.

She still would have not even looked at him if her legs were doing what she told them to do. But as soon as she tried to move to get out of the car, she realized they had got all stiff and she was going to have to hold to the arm he was extending towards her if she didn’t want to fall on her face.

She recovered her balance quickly and stalked towards the door, her key ready in her hand.

“Goodnight, Doctor Masters,” the doorman greeted her.

“Benny,” she growled.

“Who’s your friend?”

Meg turned around to discover that Castiel was standing right behind her, startling her.

“You don’t have to come all the way up with me,” Meg protested.

“I have to make sure your apartment is safe.”

Benny looked at him and then back at Meg.

“Is he bothering you, doc? Do you need me to call someone?”

Meg opened her mouth to speak, but Castiel was faster than her:

“I am Doctor Masters’ bodyguard. I will be escorting her around to make sure she is safe.”

“Bodyguard?” Benny repeated, utterly confused.

“It was my father’s idea,” Meg said, feeling her cheeks burning bright at the admission. “Just… okay, fine,” she groaned, because really, there was no point in arguing and she just wanted him to leave. “Let’s make this quick.”

Meg made sure to hold the briefcase in between the two as if it was a barrier. Castiel either wasn’t bothered by that or simply didn’t realize. She took the time on the ride up to stare at his profile, wondering if he would emote if she stepped on her toes hard enough or if he would keep wearing that same blank expression that was starting to get on her nerves.

He tried to step inside at the same time as her and they ended colliding on the doorway. She hit a solid mass of pure muscle and almost lost her balance again. Goddammit, was he made of iron or something?

He grabbed her arm almost instantaneously to help her again, but this time, Meg pulled away the second he felt his fingers on her.

“What’s the matter now?” she asked, angrily.

“I should go inside first.”

“What, in case there’s a manic with a gun waiting behind my couch?” she groaned. “Come on!”

She tried to walk past him, but his hand was on her elbow again and his grip was confident and tight.

“I’m afraid I have to insist.”

Meg was two seconds away from cussing him out. She just wanted to get inside her home, take off her bra and eat mac and cheese directly from the goddamn pot, was that too much to ask for?!

Her fury must have been radiating from her by that point, because Castiel swallowed visibly, but still wouldn’t let her go.

“Please, Doctor Masters. This would be much easier for the two of us if you’d just…”

“I have to have a stranger walk into my home, and _I’m_ the one who’s being unreasonable?!” she screamed.

“I didn’t say that,” Castiel replied, calmly. “I know this is an awkward situation…”

“Understatement!”

“… but please, understand that I’m just doing my job as you would with a patient who doesn’t want treatment.”

Meg narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t know whether to be furious at him for comparing having a bodyguard following her around with a life or death medical situation or impressed that he’d pulled perhaps the only comparison that would actually get to her.

“I don’t see patients anymore,” she groaned, but she still lowered her arm and stepped back

Castiel breathed out in relief.

“Thank you.”

Meg had to wonder what he would have done if she’d opposed her just a little longer. He was probably capable of picking her up and putting her down again, because the tan coat made him seemed a little hunched and unassuming, but when she’d crashed against him, she’d felt the muscles in his chest and damn…

After Castiel looked around a little, Meg strode inside and got herself a glass of cold water in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to see: her living room, the small kitchen where she ate all her meals, the bathroom and her room, which was also her office. Her father had offered her to move to a bigger apartment, but honestly, Meg didn’t need anything else. She liked it there. She liked her privacy.

So, she tried hard not to think about the fact that Castiel had emerged from her room, where she knew for a fact that her desk and bed were a mess, and also where he might notice the cane she’d left leaning against the wall.

If he did see it, he made no comment about it when he came back. He moved the blinds a little, but Meg didn’t have the most interest sight: just some other buildings and a small parking lot to the left.

“Is everything to your liking?” she asked, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in her tone.

Castiel answered as earnestly as always:

“Yes.”

He walked away and stood in front of the breakfast bar. Meg leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms across her chest. She didn’t know why she did that. Maybe because she wanted to keep as much distance from him as he could, even when he was literally standing in the middle of her most sacred space.

“Does anyone else have access to this apartment?” he asked.

“I hire a cleaning service. The maid comes three times a week,” Meg explained. “My parents and my research partner all have emergency keys.”

“That’s all?” Castiel frowned. “What about your brother?”

“Last time I gave him the key to one of my places… Tom is a semi-famous actor who hangs out with a lot of supermodels,” Meg said, with a grimace. “It’s better for my peace of mind if he doesn’t have a key.”

A flicker of amusement flashed through his eyes and Meg could have sworn she saw his lips quivered as if he was trying to hold back a smile. It passed as quickly as it came.

“Very well. Please, ask them if they still have them.”

“You really think someone is going to break into my partner’s apartment, steal her key and use it to, what, set a mortal trap here?” Meg huffed. “And if they can break into my parents’ home, they might as well just kill my dad and not waste their time with me.”

“Well, that’s precisely why they would bother with you. You’re a far easier target.”

“You calling me easy, Captain Milton?”

She didn’t know why the hell she made that quip. It was too easy and not too witty, but she was still bothered, and she needed something to deflect.

Castiel swallowed again and lowered his eyes.

“Of course not.”

“It was… it was just a joke,” Meg mumbled.

“Oh.”

He fidgeted with his hands for a second. Meg finished her glass and put it down on the counter.

“Is that all?”

“Uh… I think so.” He scratched the back of his neck. “What time do you need me to pick you up tomorrow?”

Meg looked up at the ceiling for a moment.

"So, we're really doing this every day, huh?"

"Until the case is solved, yes."

"What if I just tell you to pick me up at one hour and I leave before you get here?"

Castiel frowned at her, like wondering why the hell she would do something like that.

"I would have to tell your father about it."

"Of course you would." Meg clicked her tongue, exasperated. "Seven thirty, sharp."

"Very well."

"And you better bring me coffee. Decaf, no sugar."

She was very close to breaking him with that comment, she was sure. If the way he stared at her, his blue eyes practically smoldering while his hands curled up in fists, was any indication, then she had been very close to finding the limit to this man's seemingly limitless patience.

But he regained his composure after a second.

"Anything else?"

Meg had to make a real effort to keep a straight face.

"No, that will be all."

"Then I will see you tomorrow, Doctor Masters. Good night."

He walked calmly towards the door, as if he was making an effort not to look like he was running away from her. Meg remained where she was, leaning against the counter, watching him leave. The moment the door closed behind him, she burst into laughter.

Okay, this was a pain in the ass. But it didn't mean that she couldn't have some fun with it.

* * *

Castiel found that if he acted with sufficient care, it wasn't that hard to work with Meg.

Well, yes, she was mercurial and sarcastic and sometimes she could be downright hostile, but well, wouldn't everybody be if they had a complete stranger following them around all of a sudden?

The first morning he went to pick her up, Benny the doorman was already in his post and he gave him a pointed look.

"So she wasn't kidding about the bodyguard thing," he commented. "Do you also double as an errands boy?"

It was the second time someone made that joke. Castiel figured he meant it because he was carrying a cardboard container with two plastic cups, but still, he found it hard to laugh. He probably should have. They were going to see each other basically ever day when he drove Meg back to the building and Anna was always telling him how he needed to be more social and whatnot. But he was still cranky from having to wake up so early, so all he did was glare at Benny and ring the intercom.

He had to ring two more times before Meg deigned to pick up.

"What?!" she shouted at him.

Castiel repressed the impulse to roll his eyes at this.

"It's Castiel, Doctor Masters. You told me to pick you up at..."

"Ah, shit," she interrupted him. "I didn't think you'd actually... fine, give me five minutes."

It wasn't five minutes. Castiel had to stand around the lobby, drinking his coffee and ignoring the fact Benny kept glancing at him over his newspaper for about twenty minutes before she deigned to make her appearance. She didn't look much different than she did the day before: blouse, black pants, hair tied up in a bun. Very little make up, though of course he could be wrong. She was wearing flats. Castiel wondered if that had anything to do with the slow, sometimes unsteady way she walked.

He didn't have a lot of time to wonder it, though, because she walked straight to him and grabbed the untouched cup from the carton. She drank its contents in a single, continuous gulp and had the gall to glare at him when she finished.

"It was cold," she complained.

Castiel stared at her, mentally counting to five so his tone of voice didn't betray his irritation when he answered:

"You were late."

And then she did something he was certainly not expecting her to do.

She smiled at him. A big, great, sincere smile.

"I guess I was. Sorry about that. Okay, let's go."

She smashed the empty cup on his chest and strode towards the door before he had time to react. The only reason he managed to catch up with her was because she didn't walk all that fast.

It was at that point that Castiel had to wonder if she was deliberately trying to mess with him. It wouldn't be the last time he pondered on that possibility.

Meg didn't seem to have a very active life, which meant Castiel didn't have a very active job.

She went from her home to the hospital and back to her apartment. She started early and left late, usually later than her partner, Dr. Rowena MacLeod, a short, redheaded woman Castiel learn to spot while he waited on the parking lot every night. Her leaving meant he only had an hour or so to wait until Meg left as well. Twice a week, he accompanied her to a late yoga class at a nearby gym and at least once a week to a grocery run. On weekends she usually called early to tell him she was going to stay home all day or that she was going to see her parents and have her father's "minions" chaperone her instead. Sometimes (extraordinarily) she would ask him to take her for lunch to a restaurant because she hated the hospital's food.

And that was it. No boyfriends, no late night out with friends, none of the things Castiel had imagined when Anna showed him the few articles about her that the press had written.

"She was a wild girl when she was in college," Anna commented, reading on her tablet while Castiel packed his lunches for the week. "Like, party every weekend, crash her car on a lamppost and get a slap on the wrist, public nudity wild. Then, after her father was elected to the Senate for the fourth time, nothing. She cleaned up her act all of a sudden. Her brother, though, he went into acting and he was in all sorts of TV shows, some movies and... apparently, he dated Taylor Swift for like three months? That's random."

"I don't really care for her brother or... Taylor Swift," Castiel said, not willing to admit he didn't know who that person was. It wouldn't be the first time that she would mock him for his lack of pop culture knowledge. "I just want to know what I'm dealing with here."

Anna tapped on the screen a few more times.

"Well, she graduated from Stanford, became a neurobiologist, and she was recently given a grant to research and develop a new drug for people with muscular spasms caused by neurological and immunological diseases along with a leading expert doctor from Scotland, of all places. I don't get this," she concluded, shaking her head. "She did a complete three-sixty."

"One-eighty," Castiel corrected her. The kitchen clock rang, so he put away the last lunch, put on the mittens and opened the oven.

"What?"

"She did a one-eighty. If she had done a three-sixty, she would've ended up right where she started, with all the... drunk driving and public nudity." He pulled the lasagna from the oven and grabbed a knife. "You're a journalist. You write for a living. You should know this."

"Oh, you're going to correct me now? Is that what we've come to?" she asked, teasingly while Castiel put a plate filled with a generous portion of lasagna in front of her. She grabbed a fork, took a bite and hummed her approval. "Okay, scratch that. You can correct me all you want as long as you keep cooking for me."

Castiel smiled at her as he sat in front of her. The warmth feeling of pride that he always experimented when someone enjoyed his food crawled up his spine as he too picked a fork and started digging into it as well. He had tried some new seasoning this time and he was glad that his little experiment had paid off.

"You're a health hazard," Anna complained between bites. "I've gained three pounds since you moved in with me."

"That's because you're actually eating now instead of living on microwave ramen," Castiel pointed out. "You could stand to gain some weight."

"Alright, Aunt Amara," Anna quipped, rolling her eyes. "I'll get right on that. Then I'll make sure to find a rich man and pump out five or six kids in rapid succession."

They both laughed happily. Castiel had to admit it: even though his life wasn't where he'd thought it'd be, he still had to appreciate these moments with his sister. Growing up, Anna had provoked more than one fight during dinner with her feminism and her dreams of moving to the big city and making it on her own. She had always been so independent and mature Castiel had thought she didn't really need their family to support her.

Now he had to wonder if she didn't have the right idea all along. After all, when he thought his family would have his back after one of the hardest decisions of his life, he'd received nothing but judgment and silence. Anna had been the only one who'd stood by him and supported him. Maybe their family needed to appreciate independence a little bit more after all.

"It's a travesty that they didn't hire you in the restaurants," Anna commented, pulling him back from his thoughts. "Cooking like you do..."

"Ah, but then I wouldn't have the joy of being a glorified babysitter," Castiel replied and Anna laughed once again.

He didn't tell her he'd stolen that joke from Meg. He also didn't tell her that despite her walls and her silence and her teasing, he actually did find Meg interesting. He couldn't help it. She seemed so lonely and so tired all the time that sometimes he wondered why she was like that, if she had chosen to push everybody away or if she'd simply given up.

Perhaps he fixated so much on Meg because there was little else he could do. He waited outside on the car for long hours, mostly, so he had developed a routine to prevent himself from dying of boredom: he borrowed Anna's tablet, loaded it up with books and set a timer. Every forty-five minutes, he got out of the car and walked around the car for fifteen minutes to stretch his legs while checking the surroundings.

"It must be exciting though, isn't it?" Anna had asked. "Knowing that you shield her from danger and all that..."

There was no danger to speak of, as far as Castiel could tell. No stalkers with cameras, nobody that followed Meg around or tried to approach her in an inappropriate way. She never noticed anything out of the ordinary when they arrived at the apartment. Castiel was beginning to think that she was right, and her father was merely paranoid. The investigation on who had sent the threats and the pictures was going nowhere, or at least that was what they'd told Meg.

"Maybe I can finally convince him that this is all completely unnecessary, and you won't have to follow me around anymore."

A part of Castiel hoped she was right, because this was by far the least exciting job he'd has in his life. Even if the pay was good and he didn't have a lot to do, he would have preferred to be in a kitchen somewhere, making sure that everything was running smoothly, serving orders and...

Someone tapped on the window of his car. Castiel looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading, surprised and confused. Doctor Rowena MacLeod was standing outside of the car, looking at him with a deep frown. Castiel rolled the window down.

"Can I help you?" he asked her. Was there something wrong with Meg? But Rowena didn't seem too worried, she was simply staring at him almost angrily.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you," she told him, in a thick Scottish accent.

"... excuse me?" Castiel asked, even more confused than before.

"I've seen you every day for the last couple of weeks sitting here in the parking lot like a creep," she continued. "I don't know if you're trying to steal from us or if you're stalking someone, but if I see you again, I swear I'll call the police, do you understand me?"

"What? No, I'm not... I'm not trying to... this is all a misunderstanding. Let me..."

He reached for the door handle, but the second he did, Rowena stepped back and quickly reached inside her purse. By the time Castiel stepped out of the car, he found himself staring directly at a pepper spray can.

"Don't come any closer!" Rowena warned him.

"Please, doctor," Castiel said, rising his hands in surrender. "If you let me explain..."

"How did you know I'm a doctor?" she demanded to know, but there was a note of triumph in her voice, as if with that simple phrase Castiel had confirmed all of her suspicions. "Who do you work for?"

"I don't..."

"What's going on?"

Castiel never thought he'd be so relieved to see Meg walking towards them. She looked at Castiel and then at Rowena, frowning.

"This guy has been stalking us!" Rowena accused him. "Every day, he's sitting there when I get here, and we leave..."

"Rowena, put the pepper spray down," Meg told her. "He's not a stalker."

"So, you know him?"

"Yes." Meg stepped closer to him. "His name is Castiel Milton. He's my..." She looked at Castiel and then back at Rowena, who was putting down the spray can. "My..."

"Your?" Rowena asked.

Meg looked down at her shoes, and then up again. A slight shade of red had crept up her cheeks.

"My... my bo..."

"Oh!" Rowena interrupted her, her eyes opening wide with a sudden realization. "Oh, I see!"

"N-no," Meg stammered. "It's not like..."

Rowena walked up to Castiel, who involuntarily took a step backwards. He had taken men that doubled him in size down on his Air Force days, but he wasn't sure he wanted to face the fury of a woman who confronted what she thought was a dangerous stalker with nothing but her spunk and some pepper spray.

But Rowena was smiling even as she lifted a finger and jabbed at Castiel's chest with it.

"You better take good care of her, you hear me, mister?"

"I... I'll try to?" Castiel replied. He was no longer sure what was going there, but he wasn't about to argue.

"Rowena..." Meg said, but her partner wasn't paying attention.

"She is a very special girl, and if you hurt her..."

"Rowena!" Meg insisted, raising her voice. "It's not like that!"

"Of course not." Rowena winked at her. "Well, I guess I'll see you on Monday. Have a good weekend!" she added in a singsong tone as she sauntered away from them.

She got inside her car and drove away while Castiel and Meg stood around the parking lot. Her face was bright red, and she kept pinching the bridge of her nose, as if she was trying to gather all of her thoughts at once.

"I don't... I'm not sure what's just happened," Castiel admitted.

"She thinks we're dating."

"Oh."

Well, that was awkward. He wasn't sure what he did next made it any less awkward: he chuckled softly, a forced sound he suffocated as soon as he noticed Meg glaring at him.

"Let's go," she said and opened the passenger door before he could do it for her.

The ride back to her home was always somehow uncomfortable, because Meg seemed deadly allergic to even the most innocuous of small talk and she often turned it off if he tried to turn on the radio. But that evening it was especially terrible because she was refusing to even look at him. The silence was dense and heavy and Castiel wasn't quite sure what to do with himself...

"She keeps telling me I need to see someone."

Castiel looked at her briefly before turning his attention back on the road. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she was looking everywhere except at him.

"Like... like a therapist?"

Meg scoffed and Castiel figured he'd said the wrong thing again.

"Like a date," Meg explained after a few seconds. "And she's not the only one. Nobody seems to understand I don't need a boyfriend to be happy. I'm perfectly fine the way I am."

"Of course."

Even when he was trying to agree with her, it seemed like he couldn't stop shoving his foot in his mouth.

"What do you mean? Why do you say it like that? _Of course_."

"I... I didn't mean anything by it..."

"Yes, you did." She rolled her eyes. "You're just like everyone else. You think I'm miserable just because I dedicate all my time to my job..."

Castiel reached his limit.

"First of all, it would be extremely unprofessional of me to have an opinion on what you chose to do with your life, Doctor Masters. And second, even if I had the right to have an opinion about it, it would be that you're trying to accomplish something very noble and no one has any right to judge you or demand more of you."

He interrupted himself, vaguely aware that he had raised his voice at her. Now, that was unprofessional. His face was burning while he started to apologize...

"I'm sorry, Doctor Masters, I didn't intend... I should not have talked to you like this..."

"What do you know about what I'm trying to accomplish?"

Castiel had no choice but to swallow and confess.

"I... I read about it online..."

"Oh," she replied. Then, after a few seconds, she added: "So Rowena was right. You are a stalker."

"I... I never intended to..."

"It was a joke, Castiel."

"Ah. I see."

He didn't even attempt to force out another laugh. It was clear that he was not going to make things any less awkward than they already were.

They got to the apartment and rode the elevator silently. Meg opened the door and as always, moved to wait in the kitchen while Castiel checked all the windows. As usual, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He was beginning to doubt whoever had taken the pictures had any objective in mind other than making Senator Masters a bit nervous and nothing else.

Then again, he wasn’t an investigator.

“Everything’s clear,” he informed her.

Meg was rubbing her lower back, but she stopped suddenly, as if he’d caught her doing something inappropriate or embarrassing. Her cheeks were redder, but her voice was calm when she said:

“Very well. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Castiel nodded and walked towards the door. Before he left, however, he turned toward her.

“My sister has a masseur that I could recommend.”

Meg stared at him over the edge of her cup.

“What?” she asked, as if Castiel had blurted out a phrase in a foreign language.

“She sees him once a week. She’s a journalist, she spends a lot of time hunching over the computer and she suffers from back pain too,” he explained. “She says the massages help her manage that. Perhaps they could be beneficial for you too.”

She still said nothing, her mouth slightly agape. It was as if she didn’t expect him to notice the way she moved or walk, or as if she didn’t expect him to come to a conclusion about it.

“That’s, uh… that’s what the yoga is for,” she stammered in the end.

“Right.” Castiel took a step backwards. As it kept happening lately with her, he felt as if his own tie was choking him and he needed to get out of there fast. “I’m sorry if I… I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

“Isn’t that what you were hired to do, though? Overstep my boundaries?”

Castiel frowned. “No?”

“Ah. Could’ve fooled me.”

And there she was.

“Goodnight, Dr. Masters,” he mumbled, as he turned towards the door.

“Cas,” she called him.

He stopped, surprised. She’d never called him by his nickname before. She seemed as unnerved by this as he was.

“Uh… thank you. For the suggestion.”

It sounded like those were words she was very much not used to saying. If only for that, Castiel appreciated it all the more.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you on Monday, unless you need me before that.”

“Probably won’t.”

It didn’t occur to him until he was on his way home that she might have meant something entirely different by it, but he wasn’t sure what. Meg Masters was a mystery that Castiel just couldn’t figure out.


	3. Chapter 3

“So you’re just not going to tell me anything, huh?”

Meg huffed and looked away from the reports she had been trying to pay attention to all day. Rowena had started the day just fine, but as it continued, she kept dropping more and more hints about how she wanted to know more about Castiel, like where had Meg met him and how long had they’d been seeing each other. Now, as the day was drawing to a close, she had started asking point blank and Meg didn’t know how long she could keep giving evasive answers.

“There’s just nothing to tell!” Meg replied, exasperated.

That obviously wasn’t enough to stop Rowena, though.

“Nothing to tell? Meg, this is the first guy you’ve dated since… the touchy subject.”

Meg tapped her table with a pen, wondering how far into her neck she would need to jab it to kill herself and escape that conversation. She also didn’t know why she couldn’t just blurt out “He’s my bodyguard, who I have because my father is a paranoid bastard” and be done with it, except…

“Girl, I just want you to know I say the boyfriend thing because I’m worried about you. What happened with… the touchy subject, it was very hard on you and no one knows it better than me,” Rowena said. “You’ve sort of put up this wall around you afterwards and I just want to see you heal from that. Moving on.”

That was it. Meg couldn’t really tell her the truth because since they’d started working together, Rowena had been like the older sister she’d never had. And she knew everything Rowena told her was truth. Meg didn’t want to disappoint her. She didn’t want to admit to her that she was still stuck on what Rowena called, with reason, “the touchy subject”. It was even more embarrassing than the bodyguard thing. So instead of the truth, she said:

“I know. I’m not going to say it was easy, but… uh… Castiel just seems like a good guy.”

At least that wasn’t a lie, from what Meg could gather. It’d caught her by surprise that he’d noticed her back pain. Most people just… didn’t, and not only because Meg made an effort not to let it show.

A smile appeared on Rowena’s lips.

“Is that so?” she asked, resting her chin on the back of her hand and looking intently at Meg.

“I’m not telling you anything because there’s nothing to tell,” Meg continued. “We’ve only just met a couple of weeks ago. It’s too early to tell if anything’s gonna come out of this.”

In her experience, it was easier to maintain a lie if she kept it along the lines of the truth. So, when they arrested the fucker that took the pictures of her and her father finally fired Castiel, she could just tell Rowena it hadn’t worked out.

“I see.” Rowena tilted her head. “But he picks you up every night.”

“He doesn’t like me taking the bus or calling a cab so late,” Meg explained, quickly. “He just drops me off my apartment.”

“Oh, just drops you off at the door? Don’t you ever… ask him to come up with you?”

Meg looked at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Have you noticed my mood improving all of a sudden for no apparent reason?”

Rowena chuckled. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on you in case I see it.”

Meg stuck her tongue out at her and turned her attention back to the reports. The trials were still going well, without any major side effects reported yet, and perhaps now that Rowena’s curiosity was satisfied, they could back to…

“Have you told him?”

Meg lifted her head.

“About your… issue?” Rowena asked.

She was amazing at speaking in euphemisms. Meg sometimes was thankful for that.

“Like I said. It’s too soon.”

Rowena finally accepted that as a final answer and let the issue go. For the time being, at least.

Perhaps that was a positive thing. It would get Rowena off her back about the proverbial horse and how Meg needed to get back on it, at least for a while. And then she could use her “failed relationship” with Castiel to justify pouring all her energy into her work, like she was already doing, but without worried best friends asking too many questions.

* * *

A car he didn’t know stopped near the lab’s door.

Castiel put down the newspaper he’d been reading and stared at it. He’d become familiar with most of the other doctors’ vehicles, and of course, there were always patients’ families coming and going. But this car caught his eye because of the model. It was a black, shiny Chevrolet Impala, an old sixties or seventies model. It must have eaten so much gasoline he had to wonder that if the benefits of driving it outweighed the costs in any way.

A man stepped out of the car. Brown hair, jeans, leather jacket. He walked around it and leaned against the car, taking his cellphone out and typing away in it quickly. He seemed to be waiting for someone.

Castiel checked his clock. It was about the time that Meg and Rowena left for the night. There was nothing inherently suspicious about the brunette man, but Castiel still made a mental note to check for a black Impala following them home that night.

It turned out he shouldn’t have bothered.

Five minutes later, Meg and Rowena left the hospital, walking arm in arm. Meg seemed different somehow and Castiel figured it was because she was laughing along to something her friend had told her. He never got to see her quite this relaxed.

It didn’t last, though. The brunette man in the leather jacket spotted her too, put his cellphone away and stalked towards her. Meg’s laughter froze in her face, a panicked expression quickly replacing it.

Castiel didn’t think. He leaned over and took out the Glock he kept there. It was small enough to fit hidden inside of his overcoat’s pocket. He hoped to God that he didn’t need to use it, but it’d be useful to scare the guy away if he got stubborn.

In less than ten seconds, he’d crossed the parking lot to where they were, and it wasn’t a moment too soon.

“… leave me alone!” Meg was telling the guy, rolling her eyes and took a step to try and go around the guy, only for him to step in front of her, blocking her way.

“Sure, I’ll leave,” he promised. “As soon as you give it back!”

Rowena was incensed over this guy’s behavior.

“You heard her!” she said, pointing a finger at the guy much in the same way she had done when she’d threatened Castiel. “Go away, little man.”

It was strange to hear her say that when the man was at least a head taller and with much broader shoulders than her, but Castiel knew her next step would be to reach into her bag and grab the pepper spray.

He stepped between Meg and the man before it escalated to that.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, calmly, staring at the stranger’s face directly and doing his best not to blink. He’d been told many times that doing that made people uncomfortable and he was willing to give it a shot in hopes that the man would just back off.

It worked, somewhat. The stranger stepped back, but he didn’t walk away. He stuck his chin up in the air, reminding Castiel a little of a dog ready to go into the attack.

“Listen, man, this is none of your business…”

“If you’re bothering Dr. Masters, it is my business,” Castiel said, still calm, his arms hanging loose at his sides, watching the man closely in case he did any sudden movements. For once tense moment, he thought the situation was going to reach some ugly levels of awkwardness, especially when the guy put his hands in his pockets and moved is body towards him, aggressive and angry.

“Why? What’s it to you?”

Castiel didn’t back off. He felt the weight of his gun inside of his pocket, but perhaps if he just managed to aim a punch at the guy’s jaw and put enough force behind it…

Someone squeezed his arm, distracting him.

“Babe, it’s okay,” Meg said, pulling from him as if she wanted him to get away from the guy. “He’s not worth it.”

Castiel frowned.

“But…” he began saying.

He couldn’t finish. Meg’s other hand crept up to the back of his head, pulling him down while she stood on the tip of her toes, and the next thing he knew, his mouth was clashing against hers.

It lasted maybe three seconds, barely a graze long enough to be called an actual kiss. But it was enough for the blood to rush to Castiel’s head, for him to be caught embarrassed and confused, to distract him from the situation that he was trying and failing to deescalate.

It didn’t matter anyway, because Meg lowered her hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

“Let’s just go,” she said. “Rowena, let’s go. I have nothing to say to him.”

She pulled from Castiel and walked past the guy very quickly. Castiel glanced in his direction, to see that he had also been a little taken aback by Meg’s actions, enough that he let them pass him by without another word.

He recovered quickly, though.

“We’re not done!” he screamed in their wake.

“Oh, yes, we’re done!” she replied, not even looking over her shoulder. “Go fuck yourself, Dean!”

The guy (Dean, apparently) made no attempt to follow them, which was good. Castiel opened the passenger door for Meg to get inside, all the time eyeing at Dean in case he decided to do something stupid that would cause further problems for everybody.

He didn’t. He just huffed a bit and got inside his Impala. Castiel followed it with his eyes while it left the parking lot, and only when he’d disappeared he felt a little of the tension leave his body.

“Who was that?”

Instead of answering, Meg signaled for him to turn on the engine. Castiel did only because he noticed that Rowena had moved her car to the entrance and was apparently waiting for them there. He stopped next to it and lowered the window while Rowena leaned over the passenger seat to talk to them.

“What a piece of work,” she said, through gritted teeth, in a way that Castiel felt that wasn’t what she really meant to say. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Meg replied. “Drive safely.”

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

After that, she rolled the window up and drove away. Meg leaned back on her own seat, sighing and staring up at the ceiling with a huff. Castiel glanced at her, not sure what to say.

There were a million questions running through his head. Why had she kissed him? What was that supposed to accomplish? Why hadn’t she let him deescalate the situation, like it was his job to do?

And most important of all, who the hell was that guy? Was he going to be a problem for them in the future? Why hadn’t Meg mentioned him to her father or anyone else if she knew him and knew that she apparently didn’t have a good relationship with him?

“What?” she asked when she noticed that Castiel was simply staring at her. “Oh, okay,” she added and tiredly adjusted the seatbelt around her body. Castiel hadn’t even noticed that she wasn’t wearing it, but he wasn’t going to argue right now.

“We’ll talk about this once I get you home,” he decided. He was going to need all of his concentration to make sure they weren’t being followed, by Dean or anyone else.

“No, we won’t,” Meg replied. She crossed her arms over her chest and very pointedly didn’t look at him.

Castiel decided it was useless arguing with her at that point and, instead, simply drove away. He kept checking the rearview mirror every now and then and double-checking every car around them whenever they stopped at a red light, but he spotted no black Chevrolet Impala.

Then again, that was a very distinctive car. If Dean was the stalker that Senator Masters was worried about, would he use a car as easily identifiable as that one?

And Meg seemed upset about all of it. Just a little too upset for it to be as unimportant as she was clearly hoping Castiel would think it was.

He still said nothing until they reached Meg’s building. As always, he opened the door for her, they greeted Benny on their way in and Castiel had to insist into going into the apartment first. He did his usual sweep with as much attention as every other night, if not more. He was still a bit rattled and he was certain that Meg was too.

It didn’t surprise him at all to see her with her back turned to him a she pretended being busy making herself some tea.

“Are you done?” she asked him.

“Doctor Masters, we need to talk about what happened,” Castiel said, already preparing himself for an uphill conversation.

Meg place the pot over the stove with a tired sigh and slowly turned to look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry I kissed you, okay? It was a… spur of the moment thing. I just wanted all of that to be over. It won’t happen again.”

Castiel stared at her, not sure what to answer to that. It had worked exactly as she’d intended to work, but still…

“You need to let me deal with conflicts that put you in danger,” he replied, in the end. “I am… literally paid to do that.”

Meg scoffed.

“I wasn’t in danger.”

“So did you know this man? How could you be sure he wasn’t going to hurt you?”

She leaned back on her kitchen counter, a hostile look in her brown eyes.

“Take my word for it. Dean is a nuisance, but he isn’t dangerous. He’s definitely not the guy who’s been sending death threats to my dad.”

“How can you be sure about it?”

Meg threw her hands up, exasperated, then slowly put them down, as if she needed to remind herself to remain calm.

“Because, he’s not! Can’t you just take my word for it?”

Castiel sighed and moved closer to her, not daring to quite come into the kitchen space, but still looking at her in the eye so she would understand that what he was about to say was serious.

“Whether I believe it or not is irrelevant. Your father’s office and the investigators handling the case have asked me to inform them of anything out of the ordinary. This was out of the ordinary.”

Meg winced, and for a second, Castiel saw something he wasn’t expecting in her: panic.

“Oh, no,” she muttered. “No, don’t tell them about this.”

“I have to,” Castiel replied. “I’m sorry.”

They stared down at each other for what felt like the longest time. It was as if they were competing to see which one of them was going to break first.

Castiel was, of course, aware that his principal was a very beautiful woman. He’d been aware of it since the first time he’d seen her. It was a sort of effortless beauty. She was not trying to impress anyone or attract attention to her appearance, always wearing smart blouses and pantsuits, always with minimal to no makeup. He was also aware that it was very unprofessional of him to think of her that way, so he tried, with all his might, to not do that.

It was impossible when her big brown eyes were so fixed on him he could almost feel them burning on his skin, when they were standing only a few steps away from each other, when he could still feel the ghost of her full lips upon him and when his heart was beating so loud he could hear it like an echo in his ears.

He broke down first. He swallowed and looked away.

“Goodnight, Doctor Masters.”

He turned heel and headed for the door, forcing himself to step calmly, to not look like he was fleeing her presence, despite that being exactly what he wanted to do. His hand was about to reach the doorknob when she spoke again:

“Wait. Hold on, wait!”

There was a thud follow by a strangled gasp. Castiel turned around quickly, only to see Meg had fallen down on her stomach.

“Doctor Masters!” he exclaimed, running back to her as fast as he could.

“I’m fine,” she said, but she made no attempt at getting up until Castiel grabbed her by the arm and very slowly helped her up to her feet. “It’s nothing. I…”

“You’re bleeding,” Castiel said, his stomach churning with alarm.

Meg blinked a couple of times and then touched her forehead. She seemed a little surprised when she moved her fingers away and saw the red stains on them.

“Dammit,” she muttered.

Castiel helped her to the elegant black leather couch and felt up his pockets until he found his handkerchief. He extended it to her, but when Meg simply blinked at him, confused, he placed it in her hand and then made her press it against her forehead.

“Do you have a first aid kid?”

“In the bathroom. Wait, Cas! This isn’t really…”

Castiel ignored her. Clearly the fall had disoriented her a little. And he knew, rationally, that what had most likely happened was that she had hit herself with the corner of the coffee table and split open her forehead, but the amount of blood and the way she’d looked at him had him worried. What if she had a concussion? What if she needed someone to look after her? What kind of bodyguard was he that he couldn’t even prevent her from hurting herself in her own home?

He opened the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror and found the first aids kit tucked on the highest shelf. The lower one contained a small box with several vials and what seemed to be a collection of syringes and unused needles. Castiel gave them a passing glance. He had no idea what they could possibly contain, but then again, it was none of his business.

Meg gave him a strange look when he returned with the kit. She’d put down his handkerchief and just let him grab her by the chin and analyze her cut closely.

“It’s not that bad,” she told him.

“It could get infected,” he said, simply, and got to work. He soaked the gauze with oxygen water. Meg winced when he applied it to her forehead, but she made no sound that indicated her discomfort. Castiel made sure all the blood was gone before he carefully applied a butterfly bandage to it. “Does it hurt? Do you need me to bring you an aspirin?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she told him, with a hand gesture. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“The military.”

“Right.”

Castiel lowered his eyes to her and realized that they were sitting mere inches from each other and that he was still touching her face, making sure the bandage stayed in place. He put his hands away immediately.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you feel dizzy?”

“I’m fine, Cas,” she snapped, and that sounded a lot more like the Meg he was used to see. “I don’t need you fussing over me.”

“Fussing me over you is my job, Doctor Masters.”

And then, the most amazing thing happened. She looked up at him… and smiled. Not a smirk or a sarcastic grin. A genuinely, amused, happy smile.

Something tugged at Castiel’s heart and he had to look away because now he was really thinking unprofessional things.

“It’s a shame, though,” he added. “If you were dizzy, perhaps you would’ve answered my questions about Dean and why you don’t want me to inform your father’s office about him.”

“Oh, my God, you’re like a dog with a bone, aren’t you?” she complained, but her smile didn’t falter. She fidgeted with the bloodstain handkerchief, but when she spoke, her voice didn’t show traces of nervousness: “He’s my ex’s brother.”

Castiel blinked, realizing he’d once again got distracted by the curve of her lips.

“I’m sorry?”

“His name is Dean Winchester,” Meg explained. She sighed deeply, exasperated. “He’s my ex’s brother.”

“Okay.” He frowned. “What did he want?”

“The stupid ring.”

That actually didn’t explain as much as Meg thought it did, so Castiel remained immobile was while she shuffled on her seat and chewed on her lip, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t reading her mind and she had to tell him all of this out loud.

“When Sam… my ex… when he proposed, he gave me their mother’s ring,” she told him. “But then we broke up and I… sort of… never got around giving it back to him.”

She made a pause, looking at him intently. Castiel realized she was waiting for him to say something, so he muttered the very first thing that came to mind:

“Oh.”

Meg glared at him and shook her head. That was, most likely, not the answer she was seeking for, but the truth was, Castiel had no idea what he was supposed to say to all of this. It surprised him a little that Meg even had an ex-boyfriend and that she had at some point considered marrying him. She seemed so focused in her career, he’d pegged her for someone who just didn’t care about that sort of thing.

“This was… two… no, three years ago,” she corrected herself. She lowered her eyes, with her shoulders slumped and her arms still crossed over her chest, leaning away from him on the couch’s armrest. Everything about her screamed defensiveness. “And apparently Sam has emailed me about this. At least that was what Dean said. In any case, since I haven’t been answering, because I didn’t get any of these emails, Dean decided to show up in person and make a scene because he’s a brute like that.”

She hadn’t said anything bad about the ex himself, Castiel noticed, but it was very clear that she didn’t have a high opinion of Dean. Still, she took a deep breath and raised her chin, her eyes meeting Castiel again, almost as if she was daring him to judge her.

“But he’s not a stalker,” she concluded. “And this has nothing to do with my father, or the threats. It’s a personal business of mine and I would appreciate it if it stayed that way.”

There was another pause. Castiel caught on a little faster that it was his turn to speak now.

“And you couldn’t tell me this from the beginning because…?”

“It’s embarrassing,” Meg admitted. She uncrossed her arms and looked up the ceiling for a moment before she spoke again: “When Sam moved out, he left the ring behind. On the coffee table.” She pointed at it to illustrate what she was saying. “It almost felt like he was saying that he didn’t think it was over, you know? That we could still work things out.”

“But now he’s asking for it back.” Castiel tilted his head. “So that means…”

“That means he’s moving on,” Meg completed. “And I haven’t exactly done the same.”

She wasn’t looking at him, so Castiel took the change to stare at her profile. She always had such a strong presence, an aura around her that seemed to suck in all the light in the room whenever she walked in, an impenetrable armor made of such confidence that he didn’t think she could ever look this… small. This vulnerable.

This sad.

It didn’t last. She took a deep breath and just like that, the armor was back on.

“So yeah. Maybe we don’t have to mention this to anyone?”

“Who’s the dog with the bone now?” he asked, and he was rewarded with another soft chuckle. It was obvious that she was still shaken from what happened, but she wasn’t going to let it show.

And despite the tension and the fear that’d he gone through a moment before, Castiel found himself smiling as well.

“I won’t tell,” he promised. “But you have to let me know if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

She clicked her tongue, annoyed.

“Fine.” She looked down at the handkerchief still in his hand. “You probably don’t want this back the way it is, huh? I’ll wash it.”

“You don’t have to bother…”

He stretched his hand and his fingers caught unto her wrist. He froze. He wasn’t expecting the warmth of her skin or the way her pulse was beating so hard under his thumb. He was close enough that he could smell her perfume, a subtle, dark scent of roses. It suited her.

Her breathing hitched and when he looked up, her eyes looked dark and her lips were parted, expectant, like an invitation. Castiel lowered his head…

The chiming of his cellphone startled them both. Meg jumped back on the couch a little and Castiel quickly let go of her, blinking to dissipate the rapid thoughts firing up in his mind. His mouth was dry, so he had to lick his lips a couple of times before he could speak:

“Y-yes?”

“You’re late for dinner!” his sister chastised him on the other end.

“I’m sorry, Anna.” Castiel rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “I’m on my way.”

“You better. I’m starving and I’m totally gonna eat your portion if you don’t get here in twenty minutes.”

She hung up and Castiel sighed.

“I have to go.”

“Of course.” Meg sank on the couch even more, as if she had no intentions to move from there. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Doctor Masters.”

He stalked towards the door once again, slowly this time. He didn’t know what he was expecting to happen. For her to run up to him? To kiss him again? To ask him to stay? Those were all wild fantasies that he needed to tuck away, right then and there before he…

“Cas.”

He stopped on his track. She hadn’t got up from the couch or ran up to him, but she was smiling softly at him again.

“You can just call me Meg. It’s easier.”

“Oh.” Castiel caught himself staring and looked away. “Very well.”

It was not the most graceful exit in the world, but honestly, Castiel didn’t have the time or will for anything else. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so uncomfortable. He just knew he had to get away from her eyes and her lips and the maddening smell of her perfume…

Once in the car, he managed to calm down enough to convince himself that everything he was experiencing wasn’t because of Meg. It simply had been a long time since the last time he’d been with someone. Meg was beautiful, she was smart, she was tantalizing, yes, but she was his principal and that was it. He needed to stop all those thoughts in their track whenever they arose again.

Except he couldn’t shake the feeling of her lips against his.

Anna noticed immediately that something was up with him when he kept pushing his meat and potatoes around the dish without putting any of it in his mouth.

“Did you have like a very tense chase with people shooting at your car?” she asked him when he said that something had happened at work.

“Do you think my life is an action movie?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That would be way more interested than following a workaholic doctor around all day, wouldn’t it?”

Castiel had to concede that it would. Not that being around Meg wasn’t interesting in its own way.

“Come on, you can tell me,” Anna insisted.

“Well…” Castiel started, because he really needed to talk about this, but then he remembered exactly who Anna worked for. “Off the record?”

“Come on, Cas.” Anna rolled her eyes. “It’s me!”

Castiel just kept staring at her until she sighed and threw her hands up.

“Fine. Off the record.”

Castiel told her about the incident outside of the hospital and how much it had shaken Meg up, even when she’d refused to show it at first. He omitted to mention the kiss. Maybe for the same reason Meg didn’t want to talk about her ex: it was humiliating that something so small had unbalanced him so much.

“… so this Dean Winchester…”

“Wait!” Anna interrupted him. “Winchester? And her ex-fiancé’s name was Sam? Are you sure?”

“I think I would remember a detail like that, yes,” Castiel said, frowning. “Why is that important?”

“Holy shit!” Anna said.

That wasn’t an answer, but by the way she practically jumped off her chair and ran to her room to get her tablet, Castiel figured he was going to get one soon enough. And of course, Anna quickly typed something on it and placed it in front of Castiel.

“This Sam Winchester?” she asked.

The screen showed a tall man with longish, brown hair, addressing a crowd at a political rally. He stood with his shoulders straight, talking and moving with incredible confidence:

“President Rooney and all the Senators who support him had done a disservice to the American people,” he was saying, to which the crowd replied with affirmative exclamations. “I am thankful for the opportunity I have been given to serve in the House for the past two years, but I feel there’s still so much work to do and I hope that you will help me do it. Next year, I will be running against Senator Masters to defend the interests of the people of Kansas…”

The rest of his speech was drowned out by sudden cheers and screams of agreement as the people began chanting: “Sam! Sam! Sam!” over and over again. Sam Winchester smiled at them, dimples appearing in his handsome face, as he thanked them again and then moved around the stage shaking hands as if he was a rockstar instead of a politician.

Anna paused the video.

“I’m…” Castiel stuttered. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

His sister quirked an eyebrow and typed something else in the tablet.

“According to the Internet, Sam Winchester does have an older brother named Dean. So… that’s one hell of a coincidence…”

Castiel groaned, but he had to admit that Anna was right. Meg had lied when she’d said that the incident had nothing to do with her father. It did when her ex-fiancé also happened to be Senator Masters’ political opponent.


	4. Chapter 4

“… and…relax. Alright, class, that will be all for today!” Lisa announced. “Give ourselves a round of applause!”

The other women in the group clapped and cheered while Meg stretched out her hands on top of her head. She had never been one to believe the whole shit about how yoga had so many benefits and she really didn’t know if it helped or not with her back pain and her balance. (She still had the butterfly bandage on her forehead to prove that wasn’t getting any better). But she did enjoy the sensation of her tired muscles after she’d stretched them to their limits and the breathing exercises that Lisa had taught her did work sometimes against her insomnia, if she was having a good day. So she went to her yoga class religiously and she was going to continue until she couldn’t anymore.

“Very well. You did great today, Ava. Good job, Mandy. Meg.”

Lisa stretched her hand to help her stand up and Meg grabbed it. Her feet staggered and threaten to send her down once more, but she managed to hold on to her yoga instructor enough not to make a fool of herself. Her partners were all rolling their mats and getting together to talk about… well, whatever it was they talked about. Despite having been part of the class for months, Meg still didn’t really talk to anyone except Lisa. And not even her if she could avoid it.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Meg groaned. To be part of the class, she’d had to disclose her medical history and sometimes she regretted it. Especially when Lisa asked that question with a tone of voice that tried to be compassionate but came off as condescending instead.

“Taking it one day at the time,” Meg replied, with a smile to hide her irritation.

“Great. That’s great, Meg,” Lisa said, and for once, it didn’t sound like she wanted to prolong the conversation more than it was strictly necessary, because she surprised Meg by getting to the point next. “Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Her tone made it sound like it was something serious and Meg had no idea what it could possibly be. Unless she was going to offer some other extra advice about her health that she didn’t need (she was a doctor and already doing everything that could be done, thank you very much), she had no idea what Lisa could possibly want or need from her.

It turned out her defensiveness wasn’t necessary, because what Lisa wanted to ask had nothing to do with her. Well, it did, but not in a way that Meg was expecting. Lisa put a hand on her shoulder and gently lead her to the gym’s window, from where they could see the street.

“Is that guy with you?”

Castiel was parked right outside of the gym, in his usual navy blue suit and tie to match, leaning against the black car that her father had lent them, carelessly leafing through a newspaper. Meg made a mental note to tease him about it when she went out of the gym. Like, was that how he kept her safe?

“Umh… why do you want to know?” Meg asked, a little concerned.

“Well… it’s just that some girls noticed him, and they were worried that he was stalking someone,” Lisa explained. “They were talking about confronting him or calling the police. But then the other day Sarah saw you get into the car with him and I said it was better not to jump to conclusions and maybe we should ask you first.”

Meg was thankful for Lisa’s cool head, because honestly, getting the police called on Castiel would’ve been a whole other level of awkwardness that she wasn’t prepared to deal with. At the same time, she had to wonder why she hadn’t been included in the conversation about the strange guy who parked outside every day, but she of course knew the answer to that. It was because after every class she hit the shower and then went home without idling around and chatting with anyone. Still, if Castiel had really been a stalker or a guy planning a kidnapping or something, it would’ve been nice to be warned about it in advance.

Perhaps she should suggest that her dad hired the girls in the yoga class to track down whoever took the pictures. The thought made her smile and Lisa confused this for amusement.

“So you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my… my, uh…”

There it was, a perfectly decent opportunity to tell the truth. Even as embarrassing and convoluted as it was, she had already kissed the guy and let Rowena think she was dating him. But that was because Rowena was her friend and she didn’t want her to worry about her. Lisa was an acquaintance at best. Even if she didn’t want to tell the truth, she could have said it was just her chauffer, but that would’ve made her sound even more like a rich spoiled brat than just telling her Cas was her bodyguard.

Maybe that was why she blurted out the lie once again:

“My… boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Lisa exclaimed, her eyes and mouth opening wide. Meg thought she should be a little offended at the fact that her having a boyfriend was so surprising. “Oh, I see!”

“Yeah,” Meg muttered. “So, if you don’t mind, I don’t want to keep him waiting…”

“Wait, why… why does he do that?” Lisa asked, frowning with confusion.

“Oh… well… he…” Meg’s brain worked very well. It had got her through college, through a couple of post-doctorates and specializations and of course, given her a lot of bullshit to work with whenever her father caught her in some kind of trouble. But in that moment, it froze entirely and all she could do was blurt out an excuse so ridiculous it was a miracle that Lisa bought it. “He… doesn’t like me going back home alone at night, but he lives too far away, so instead of going home, he just waits for me outside.”

Not only did she buy it, her surprised expression was exchanged for one that brimmed with tenderness, the kind of face someone made when they saw a cute puppy or a video of a baby doing something funny.

“That’s so sweet of him!”

“He is a pretty sweet guy, yes,” Meg said, growing more and more uncomfortable with this conversation by the second. “So…”

She stepped away, hoping that would end that very uncomfortable and very dishonest conversation. She wasn’t in luck.

“Why don’t you ask him to sign up for the class?” Lisa suggested. She raised her voice a little as if the two steps she had taken warranted that. They didn’t, but her tone was enough to make the other girls in the class turn their heads towards them, suddenly drawn by their conversation. “That way everybody would get to know him better!”

“Uh…” Meg wondered if pretending to fall dramatically in her face was too much of a risky move to get out of this. “I mean… I don’t know if he’s a yoga kind of guy…”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to join our class, he can always use the other gym installations,” Lisa insisted. “You know, so he has something to do instead of just waiting around for you.”

“Well… I’ll make sure to ask him,” Meg said, with an uncomfortable chuckle that sounded forced as all hell before she turned around and escaped the room as fast as her wonky legs allowed her to.

That didn’t mean she escaped the conversation about “her boyfriend”. Mandy and Ava ambushed her in the shower.

“Hey, is it true that guy is your boyfriend?” Ava asked her.

Meg was halfway into washing the shampoo off her hair, so she couldn’t exactly walk away from her and the bathroom acoustics made it impossible for her to pretend she hadn’t heard what was being asked in the next stall over.

“Yeah, we’ve been… dating for a few… weeks,” Meg said.

“And he waits for you outside?” Ava let out a dreamy sigh. “That is so sweet of him!”

Meg didn’t know why, but it irritated having to hear the same comment twice in such a short amount of time.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t eaten him yet.”

Mandy and Ava stared at her like she’d just said the weirdest thing ever and then they both chuckled loud. Meg turned away from them and started scrubbing her hair faster.

“So, what, is he like… religious or something?”

“Umh… I don’t know,” Meg said, frowning.

“Because he’s such a snack I would’ve eaten him on the second date,” Mandy added, and she and Ava laughed loudly.

Meg turned off the shower, irritated. Who had given their permission to comment on her nonexistent sex life with Castiel?

She got even more irritated when she realized it had been her and her comment about “eating”.

“For real,” Mandy kept saying. “I was totally thinking about going over there and ask him for his number. You know, if he wasn’t a stalker and wasn’t taken.”

“Well… yeah, he… he’s definitely taken,” Meg mumbled.

She didn’t add that he wasn’t precisely taken by her, but by some Anna woman who waited him every night for dinner and probably wouldn’t be too happy to know that Castiel was smooching with the boss, even if it was for undercover reasons.

No, she corrected herself. It wasn’t because of that. It was because she hadn’t wanted Dean to think she was still stuck on his brother.

God, how pathetic was she?

“No, but it _is_ adorable,” Ava insisted, pulling Meg back from her thoughts. “I love it when boys care so much. My fiancé used to wait for me everywhere when we first started dating.”

“Oh, did you settle on a venue yet?” Mandy asked.

“Yes! We found the loveliest place…”

The change of topic was exactly the thing Meg needed to finish drying up and dressing up. She found that she could get by the conversation with some mildly uninterested “Uh-huh” or “That sound nice”. Ava and Mandy were so focused on their talk that they barely noticed she wasn’t paying an ounce of attention to them when she finished dressing and escaped the locker room.

Sarah and Lisa were talking next to the door.

“Good night!” Sarah greeted her on the way out.

Why did every single person who never talked to her before decide to get her attention that particular evening? Meg wasn’t sure, she just knew she needed to get out of there, but…

Were they…? Were they watching to see if she had told the truth about Castiel being her boyfriend?

No. That was her being paranoid. She had to be. Why would she lie about something like that? Well, she _had_ lied, but they didn’t know that! She was overthinking this. That was all that it was.

She still looked over her shoulder right before crossing the street. Sarah and Lisa were definitely staring in her direction, but they quickly turned their heads and resumed their conversation, very pointedly trying not to look at her.

So they doubted her story. Great.

Castiel put his newspaper down when Meg approached him.

“How was your…?”

Meg grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“Go with this,” she whispered, before she stood on the tip of her toes and left a soft, quick peck on the edge of his lips.

That was subtle enough, wasn’t it? And also, enough to get Lisa and Sarah off her back, she trusted.

And besides, there were worse things that she could imagine doing. Castiel always smelled so clean, like soap and shaving cream, and despite that, he still managed to collect some stubble by the end of the evening. Meg liked a little bit of stubble on her men, she liked feeling its roughness scraping against her skin.

She tried not to think that, if the circumstances had been different, she would be doing her damnest to climb Castiel up like a tree.

For now, all she could do was ignore the way he was blinking at her, as if he had no idea who she was or why she had done something like that, and walk around the car. She didn’t wait for him to open the door for her and she had already put on her seatbelt by the time he reacted and got in as well.

He didn’t start the car immediately, though.

“What was that?” he asked, frowning at her.

“The girls from the yoga didn’t believe you were my boyfriend,” Meg explained.

“I’m not… why do you keep telling people that?”

“Do you mind just driving?”

Castiel did mind, apparently, but he did what she said anyway.

“I keep telling people that because I would rather them think you’re my boyfriend. It’s less of a hassle, explanation-wise,” Meg told him. “And besides, I had to tell them something. They thought you were a stalker and were about to go into panic mode.”

“You do realize you actually have a stalker?” Castiel pointed out.

“Oh, please.” Meg rolled her eyes, as she always did when the conversation concerned that topic. “I don’t have a stalker; I have some crazy person who thinks they can convince my dad not to run by making empty threats.”

“You don’t know if they are empty…”

“Have you noticed someone stalking me lately?” Meg asked.

Castiel said nothing.

“Exactly,” Meg quipped, triumphant. “I really hope they’re paying you well to hold my purse and get bored around me.”

“You don’t carry a purse.”

“It’s a saying…”

“And I don’t get bored around you.”

That managed to catch her off guard. She stared at his profile trying to determine if he was joking, but then again, Castiel seemed like the kind of man who never joked, not once in his entire life. Even now, doing something as simple as driving, he kept his eyes fixed on the road and his hands firm on the wheel like road safety was the single most important issue in the entire world. His intensity meter was always on max and the gear was broken.

Meg wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his smoldering gaze, to be graced with all that blue fire that she sometimes thought she saw burning in his eyes. And once again, she reminded exactly why she wasn’t.

“How can you say that? All you do is wait around for me.”

“I also play crosswords,” Castiel pointed out.

“That’s gotta be enthralling.”

“It has its moments.”

Meg had to do a double take. The edge of his mouth was quirking up, in what for most humans would pass for a smile. She could scarcely believe it. He’d just made a joke. She didn’t think he knew how to do that.

“Alright, I might get bored while waiting on the car for you,” Castiel admitted, finally. “But I don’t get bored around you. You’re a most interesting woman, Doctor Masters… Meg.”

It had been almost a week now since she’d asked him to call her by her first name, but it seemed like he was having trouble getting used to it.

And Meg couldn’t for the life of her figure out what he meant. She did interesting things, but she didn’t think anyone who hadn’t spent their lives investigating the human brain and its many wonders would agree with her.

“Girls don’t like idle praise, Cas,” she teased him.

“It’s not idle. I mean it,” Castiel said. “I have a lot of questions about you.”

“Oh, do you, now?” Meg crooked an eyebrow at him. “And why don’t you ask them?”

“That would be inappropriate.”

“Well, I do think inappropriate questions lead to entertaining answers.”

This time, she managed to get something other than a smile from him: an actual, honest to God, full-on chuckle. Meg smiled as well, as a little voice in the back on her mind wouldn’t stop _asking just what the hell did she think she was doing?_ The guy worked for her dad, for God’s sake, and she didn’t want to have a relationship and…

It wasn’t flirting. It was just friendly conversation. Castiel had been with her every single moment she wasn’t in the hospital or at her home for the last three weeks. It was about time that they actually talked like human beings instead of pretending this awkward situation they were both trapped in wasn’t happening. Nope, it wasn’t flirting at all, just some innocent banter to keep them both entertained.

There was nothing wrong with that.

She quickly changed the topic and told Castiel what Lisa had said, about him possibly using the gym instead of waiting outside in the car.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Castiel said. “In fact, I think it would be good for me. I’ve been letting myself go a little these past few weeks.”

“Really?” Meg couldn’t for the life of her imagine what kind of body Castiel had under that ill-fitting suit. Not that she thought about Castiel’s body at all.

“My boss insists on going to work early and working late nights,” Castiel explained. “So it’s a tough choice between going out for an early run and catching enough sleep to be there on time.”

“See, that’s exactly what I mean.” Meg grimaced. For some reason, she didn’t feel like answering to that observation with another witty comment, even if she could think of one. “This is probably so tedious for you.”

“Meg, you don’t have to worry about me. It’s my job. I do it proudly.”

“Yes, but when you were a little scrappy kid, you probably didn’t think _‘When I grow up, I’m gonna drive around the daughter of some paranoid asshole all day!’_”

“I… I don’t know whether I’m allowed to laugh at that,” he said, holding his breath back in a way that indicated that he was failing hard at holding himself together.

“I won’t tell my dad if you won’t,” Meg said, and that was apparently enough to take the pin off.

Castiel’s laughter was soft and contained even then. Like he didn’t remember how to full-on belly laugh, or like he had done it so little in his life that he didn’t know exactly how to.

It still made Meg’s stomach flip, but in a good, vertiginous way. Like a roller-coaster right before the wagon took a dive.

They arrived at the apartment, so she didn’t have time to ask him what he wanted to do when he was growing up. It was an innocent enough question, the kind of question one would make when trying to get to know someone.

Then again, she had no business trying to actually get to know Castiel.

He opened the door and automatically offered her his arm for her to hold on to. Meg didn’t know if this mean he had noticed she had trouble coordinating her steps or it was just a mindless courtesy towards her. Either way, she appreciated it more than she felt safe letting him know.

She waited patiently in the kitchen as he went through the usual motions of checking her apartment, looking for anything suspicious or out of place.

“Everything seems to be clear,” he informed her once he was done.

“Figures.” Meg sipped from her glass of water silently. “I still wonder how the hell are they going to come inside an apartment on the eighth damn floor and leave a bomb underneath my bed or whatever is it that you think they’ll do without Benny clocking them. Like, are they going to Spider-man their way in or something?”

Another chuckle. She was on a roll tonight.

“Well, it’s never bad to be precautions,” he pointed out. “They probably wouldn’t really want to hurt you, though. Just scare you and your father enough to get him to drop out of the race.”

Meg clicked her tongue, annoyed.

“They don’t know him at all, then. He’s been doing this for a very long time and he’s not going to stop any time soon.”

Well, unless Sam won the election, of course. But what were the odds?

Castiel looked at her like he wanted to say something else, but then closed his mouth and stepped back.

“I have to… I have to go.”

Of course. Anna was probably waiting to have dinner with him. Meg was tempted to ask him what she thought about Castiel having to pretend to be her boyfriend, but she really didn’t want to know. Either Castiel didn’t tell her, because that was a lot of trouble that he didn’t want to deal with, or he had told her and they both laughed at her expense now and then.

Neither perspective was flattering, so she just kept her mouth shut.

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

She finished her water and tried to ignore the feeling of loneliness that crept up on her chest as soon as the door closed behind him. She really needed to stop thinking about him like that. She needed to stop thinking that he looked at her in any special way or that he laughed at her jokes or that he meant anything by it when he called her “interesting” or anything along those lines.

Because when the reality of everything she was allowing herself to pretend hit, it would hurt like hell.

* * *

Castiel had a moment of hesitation after parking the par outside of Senator Masters’ office building. He had made a promise to Meg, after all, and he wouldn’t be going there at all if he wasn’t convinced that breaking it was the best thing he could do.

But he still had to think about how furious and disappointed she would be if she ever found he’d lied.

In the end, he exited the car and walked towards the door, telling himself that if she was right, then there was nothing to be worried about. The investigation would lead into a dead-end and she would never have to know that she’d talked to her father.

“Senator Masters will be with you in a second,” Cecily informed him when he stood in front of her desk.

Castiel stared at her without smiling. He’d tried to contact Senator Masters several times that week, but it was practically impossible to do so without going through his secretary first and she always put him on hold, as if she thought that whatever he had to say wasn’t important enough for the Senator to hear. In the end, Castiel had had to reveal to her that what he needed to talk about with him was related to the threats, and that had apparently been the magic words.

“Captain Milton.” Senator Masters greeted him with a firm handshake. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m sorry we could only talk at this late hour,” Castiel replied as the Senator guided him into the office.

“Oh, please. We’re very used to long hours around here.”

He said it that with a proud grin that immediately disappeared when they walked inside, where two other men were waiting. One of them was the campaign manager whose name Castiel couldn’t remember for the life of him.

“Captain Milton, you already met Mr. Crowley,” Senator Masters said, helpfully.

“Of course.” Castiel tried to hide his relief as he shook his hand. “How are you, sir?”

“I have been better,” Crowley said. He immediately moved away from Castiel, towards the liquor cabinet on the left.

“Ignore him. Crowley is far too concerned with early polls,” Senator Masters said, before turning to the other man. “This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen. He is in charge of investigating the threats.”

Agent Henriksen was a tall, dark-skinned man with a goatee and a very serious look on his face.

“The senator thinks you have something relevant to the investigation?” he said, in a low tone that indicated he was hoping Castiel wouldn’t make him waste his time by sending him on a wild goose chase.

Castiel was hoping the same thing.

“Let’s take a seat,” Senator Masters requested, pointing at the armrest in front of his desk.

Henriksen and Castiel did, while Crowley stayed to the side, pouring himself a very generous shot of whiskey from the Senator’s liquor cabinet and drinking in silence as Castiel relayed what had happened the previous week: the confrontation with Dean Winchester, what Meg had told him he was looking for and what Castiel had suspected when he discovered who he was related to.

“I was not aware that Doctor Masters had had a personal relationship with your opponent until that moment,” Castiel concluded.

“Neither was I,” Henriksen said. His gaze was laser-focused on the Senator now, as if he was reproaching to him that he’d never mentioned this to him before.

Senator Masters sighed and intertwined his fingers over his desk.

“Yes. When I met him, Sam Winchester was a brilliant young lawyer, fresh out of Stanford. He worked on my re-election campaign, where he met my daughter. They were together for about six years and they were going to get married.”

Castiel blinked, surprised. That long? It was no wonder Meg had had such a hard time when things ended.

“And what happened?” Henriksen asked.

“You would have to ask Meg that. She called it off, but she was always reluctant to share the details with me.” Senator Masters made a pause. “You have to understand, I didn’t mention this because I didn’t think it was relevant. They broke off their engagement a year before Sam launched his bid for Congress. I don’t think he was even planning on running against me back then. And now… well, he no longer has anything to do with Meg.”

“Do you think Sam Winchester would be capable of sending you the threats?”

“Absolutely not,” Senator Masters replied, categorically. “He is an upstanding person and he would never do something as terrible as this, not for political _or_ personal gain.”

“Doctor Masters seems to be of the same opinion,” Castiel intervened. “She also thinks Dean wouldn’t do it.”

Crowley barked out a laugh. Castiel noticed that he was pouring himself another glass of whiskey, though it was impossible to know how many he’d had since Castiel had been distracted talking to the Senator and Henriksen.

“Something to add, Mr. Crowley?” the FBI agent asked.

“Yes, I have something to add,” Crowley said. “Dean Winchester is a lowlife with an overprotective streak when it comes to his brother. I would put nothing past him.”

“And you know this how?”

“When dear Meg started seeing the younger Winchester, we had the both of them investigated,” Crowley said. “Optics, you understand. We couldn’t have the Senator’s daughter dating someone who wasn’t on her level.”

“It was all done through legal means and public records,” Senator Masters added hurriedly, but Castiel doubted that a man with as many resources at him would really limit himself to that. “And we discovered… some troubling facts about the brothers’ past.”

“Such as?”

“Their father was an alcoholic and a conman who was in and out of jail multiple times,” Crowley said. “The brothers were put in a foster home with a friend of the family, a woman named Missouri Moseley. Sam managed to finish his education and get a full ride to Stanford, but Dean seemed to be following in on Daddy Dearest’s footsteps. Bar fights, credit card fraud, nothing major. But nothing good either.”

“Sam assured me that his brother had cleaned up his act,” Senator Masters added. “Still, Dean wasn’t exactly welcome to many of our family gatherings, you understand.”

“I see,” Henriksen said, but he added nothing more about what he saw, exactly. “Well, it’s definitely worth looking into.”

Castiel swallowed.

“If… if I may…” he started. He forced himself to calm down and speak without stuttering: “Doctor Masters didn’t want to bring this to your attention. She was convinced it was a personal matter for her to resolve. I wouldn’t want to…”

“You did right by bringing this to our attention, Captain Milton,” Senator Masters told him. “Meg might not be able to see it because she is too close to this, but Agent Henriksen needs to look into every clue if he is to find out who has been threatening my family. That is the priority.”

That didn’t really help Castiel’s gut feeling that he had betrayed her in some way.

“Well, if that is all, gentlemen…” Senator Masters said.

Castiel had never in his life been kicked out of somewhere with such subtlety. Henriksen and him exited the office and waited in front of the elevator door together.

“Captain Milton, eh?” Henriksen asked. “Where did you serve?”

Castiel eyed him. He obviously just wanted to make small talk, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“Iraq. Air Force.”

“Afghanistan,” Henriksen said, pointing at himself. “CID.”

“Oh.”

The Criminal Investigation Division. Suddenly it made sense that Henriksen was in charge of the case. Castiel had to wonder if Senator Masters liked to be surrounded by veterans or if it was just a coincidence.

The elevator’s doors opened before them and they both stepped inside.

“So this Dean Winchester character… what did you think of him?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly had time to make acquaintances with him,” Castiel replied. Henriksen just kept looking at him as if he was expecting something else, so Castiel elaborated: “He was upset. Angry. He didn’t seem to be a physical threat to Doctor Masters, though. He didn’t try to follow us when we walked away, and he hasn’t been back. If he’s contacted Meg through any other means of communication, she hasn’t confided it in me.”

“Meg?”

Castiel corrected himself quickly:

“Doctor Masters.”

“You close to her?”

“As… close as you can be with someone you spend every day with in a professional manner,” Castiel said.

He unconsciously grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled from it, but lowered his hand quickly when he realized what he was doing. He didn’t want Henriksen to think that he was nervous about something. He couldn’t explain to the agent that his relationship with Meg had shifted somewhat after the confrontation with Dean Winchester, that she had told him something very personal that night and that now she was more relaxed and more open to talking and joking around with him. He thought back at the conversation they had in the car, that friendly banter that had been almost…

It didn’t matter. He’d probably blown it by doing the one thing Meg had explicitly asked him not to do.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor and they both stepped out. Henriksen reached inside of his jacket pocket and took out a card that he extended to Castiel.

“Listen, if anything else comes up, if you think of something else that you believe I should know…”

“But…” Castiel frowned. “I thought… if I just talked to Senator Masters, he could…”

“Let’s cut the middleman. It’ll be more efficient this way.”

Well, there was no argument there. Castiel grabbed the card and pocketed it.

“May I inquire how is the investigation going?”

Henriksen stared at him with a confused expression that Castiel took it to mean that he had, as Anna said, “made things weird by speaking like a Shakespearean scholar”. Before he could change his question, though, Henriksen answered:

“You may, but you have to understand that I can’t exactly tell you too much about it.”

“Of course…”

“To be honest with you, there’s really not much to tell,” Henriksen confessed as they headed towards the building’s door. “At this point, we’re not even sure if the threats are credible. Political figures get them all the time and the reason we’re dedicating so much time to these ones in particular… well, let’s just say Senator Masters has friends in the Bureau.”

They stepped on the street, but they made no attempt to go their separate words. Castiel had the feeling that Henriksen needed to unload a lot of thoughts he had about the case with someone. Castiel just happened to be the closest person for it, so he mumbled:

“I see.”

“And the bastard was careful,” Henriksen complained. “There’s no evidence we can link to anyone at this point. If it was up to me, I would take Doctor Masters’ word for it that the Winchesters have nothing to do with it until we have something else that might implicate them. But I have to look like I’m doing something.”

Castiel nodded.

“Well, thank you for telling me this, agent.”

Henriksen just nodded, absentminded and stoic.

“Let me know if you think of something else.”

“Will do.”

They shook hands briefly and Castiel crossed the street towards his borrowed car.

He didn’t think about the implications of Henriksen’s words until later that night when he was laying on his couch, staring at Anna’s ceiling while he tried and failed to fall asleep.

The investigation was nowhere near being closed, which meant Senator Masters still thought Meg needed a bodyguard. So, he was going to have to keep seeing her every day for an indefinite amount of time.

That would have been so much easier for him if her kisses hadn’t burned like embers in his lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel was a knock-out at the gym.

The first time he emerged from the locker room dressed in just shorts and short-sleeved shirt, Meg had been doing the tree pose… and she’d almost lost her balance when she’d spotted him out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but hot damn, it wasn’t _this_. It turned out that underneath his cheap suits and ill-fitted coat, Castiel was actually ripped. Not in an exaggerated, bodybuilder way, but there was still enough muscle in him for her to imagine that he could easily pick her up from the floor and carry her wherever he wanted to.

He hit the treadmill, with his back turned to the yoga class, and Meg’s eyes wondered down from his back to his toned legs and then up at his ass. It looked amazingly firm and she wondered what it would be like to grab a handful of it and just squeeze…

“Meg?” Lisa called out, and Meg realized with sudden embarrassment that everybody else had moved on to a different pose.

Nobody seemed too mad with her about it, though, because even the happily engaged Ava was checking out her “boyfriend” as he finished his run and moved to the dumbbells, flexing his biceps with an ease that made Meg’s mouth go dry.

“Oh, my God,” she heard Mandy murmur under her breath.

“Ladies!” Lisa scolded them and they all quickly tried to return their attention to her and whatever stupid pose she wanted them to do, but there was no denying that they were all very distracted by the way the sweat starting pooling on Castiel’s shirt.

It didn’t help that Castiel was one of the three guys doing their routine at that hour of the evening and that he was easily the hottest one. The other was a college kid that couldn’t even be twenty yet and the third guy was a scrawny looking dude with a pointy nose that Castiel was amicably chatting with at the door when Meg finished changing.

“Alright, I will try that!” the dude said. He gave Castiel a friendly punch in the bicep and smiled at Meg before walking away.

“What did he want?” Meg asked, puzzled.

“Garth? Oh, he needed advice on how to improve his regime,” Castiel replied.

“And you’re so generously giving it to him! Might want to be careful with that, or he’s going to snatch all the attention away from you.”

Castiel tilted her head at her and Meg chuckled to herself. He obviously hadn’t realized that all the ladies at the yoga class had been fawning all over him for a while.

“Let’s just go home,” she said.

She didn’t know if anyone was looking or not, but she leaned over and grabbed his arm anyway. Now that she knew what was hidden underneath, she could feel the firmness even through his clothes.

Castiel graciously went along with the charade. He didn’t even make a comment anymore when Meg grabbed his hand or left a quick peck on the edge of his lips when she walked out of the hospital. He didn’t seem bothered by it and he even sometimes smiled at her softly, the way a real boyfriend would.

Meg still hadn’t come around what this Anna person that he lived with thought about this part of his job.

Rowena nodded approvingly each time she saw them.

“Things are going well, huh?”

“They’re… going,” Meg said, with a shrug.

It had been almost two months at this point since Castiel was following around five days a week and it was incredible how used to him she’d got. When he’d just first started protecting her, she thought it was going to be awkward all the damn time and that she was going to hate his guts forever.

And it had been pretty touch-and-go there for a while, but she had ended up expecting to lift her gaze and see Castiel waiting for her every time she walked in and out of somewhere. He still brought her coffee when he picked her up in the mornings, he held her basket when she went shopping (which was great for her back pain, actually) and he stuck around to make idle chat for about five minutes while he checked there were no bombs in her apartment. It had become a running joke between the two.

“No bombs?”

“Not this time, no.”

He laughed a lot more than when he’d first met him. Perhaps he’d just needed a push in the right direction to open a little bit. In any case, Meg had been learning a lot of tidbits about him lately. Like, how he had lots of siblings, how he’d grown up in a small town outside of the city and how he’d enlisted in the Air Force at eighteen because he couldn’t afford going to college otherwise.

She still hadn’t asked about the ex-wife he’d mentioned or about who this Anna person was, but she was getting closer to having a more complete picture of him. She didn’t know why that was important for her. She just felt like it was.

She also didn’t know why she opened her mouth and said:

“Do you want something to drink…?”

Just as the same time he said:

“I should go…”

They both stopped talking at the same time and Meg hoped that the fact her face felt like it was on fire didn’t mean that she was blushing.

“Of course,” she said, forcing out a smile. “It’s getting late.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned around and left the apartment, like he did every single night. Meg let out a deep breath that she didn’t know she was holding and told herself the same thing she said every night: she needed to control herself. Having a crush on her probably taken bodyguard was only the product of having been alone for too long.

* * *

Meg was planning on spending Friday night the same way she spent every other night of her week: at home, curled up in the couch with a book or mindlessly sifting through Netflix until she found something mildly interesting and not too attention consuming to watch. She didn’t mind admitting that she was turning into an old woman at the age of thirty-six, and much less that she was ready to never see the inside of a bar ever again. Just the thought of it made her feel exhausted.

Of course, the universe sometimes had different plans.

Lately, she had taken to eating her lunch breaks in the coffee deli near the hospital. She didn’t have to walk all the way there anymore, after all, she could just have Castiel drive her to it. And she didn’t mind sitting down with a coffee and a sandwich and watch Castiel as he chewed on his own food with eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to figure out something very important about them.

“That bad?” she asked, with a chuckle after he shook his head and put the sandwich down without finishing it.

“These are not fresh vegetables,” he complained. “It’s like they took them out of a can and slapped them into two slices of bread.”

“Yeah. That’s usually what a sandwich entails,” Meg replied, with a chuckle. “You’re very particular about food, huh?”

“I like food.”

“Everybody likes food. We need it to live.”

Castiel shook his head.

“Food as just a means to stay alive is a very simplistic way to view it. Food can bring people together; it can be a pleasurable experience. Some of my fondest memories are of my family gathering together for dinner, of coming home after a tour and getting to cook with them again. It was…” He stopped for a second and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I must be boring you with all this blabber.”

Meg opened her mouth to tell him that, on the contrary, she wasn’t at all bothered and she could hear him speak about food for hours and hours.

She didn’t have time for it though, because the deli’s door burst open right that instant and someone screamed out loud:

“Meg Masters!”

Meg startled (just like every other patron and waiter on the place) and Castiel stood up so fast that he knocked his chair down.

He shouldn’t have, though. The person that was striding towards them was very dangerous, but not in the way that Castiel might think. She was dangerous because back in college, she had been the instigator of several of Meg’s bad decisions.

“Ruby?” Meg asked, shocked. She grabbed unto the side of the table and started the process of standing up, but her friend pulled up a chair, grabbed her arm and pulled her down before she was up.

“Oh, my God, it’s been forever!” she exclaimed as she threw her arms around Meg’s shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. “You look great!”

Meg wasn’t sure how sincere that comment was, but she meant it when she said it back to her. Ruby’s olive skin and dark hair were glowing and as always, she was wearing impeccable dark lipstick and very tight jeans to show off her long, shapely legs.

“I didn’t know you were back in town,” Meg commented, still a little dumfounded.

“Well, that’s because I dropped by the hospital to surprise you and Rowena said you’d gone out for lunch and… oh, my.” Ruby’s stream of words was finally interrupted when she set eyes on Castiel. “And this might the boyfriend she mentioned?”

Castiel was still standing, a hand inside of his pocket, blinking at them owlishly. Meg made him a gesture to let him know it was okay, so he slowly sat back down.

“Cas, this is my friend Ruby,” she introduced him.

“Oh,” Castiel said. He still seemed a little shocked by the suddenness of her appearance, but he got over quickly and offered Ruby his hand. “Umh… very nice to meet you.”

“Right back at you.” Ruby’s smile grew wider and her eyes sparkled in a way that indicated Meg she was planning something already. “We need to go out for drinks tonight.”

And there it was, exactly what Meg was fearing she would say.

“Ruby, I can’t…”

“Of course you can! You’ve got something better to do?”

Meg couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough.

“Great! I’ll call Tom and tell him to come too! I’ve found this new Mexican place that serves some amazing margaritas,” Ruby said, taking out her cellphone to demonstrate just how ready she was to do exactly what she was threatening on doing. “Of course, Cas, you are invited. I am dying to know how you two met.”

“I am…” Castiel started, but ruby didn’t let him continue. She pointed at him with her index finger, a long red nail aiming directly at his throat.

“And I want to get to know you,” she added, her smile still wide, but a little more menacing than before. “I have to make sure you’re good enough for my bestie.”

“I… that’s… very well?” he mumbled, after throwing an interrogating glance at Meg.

“Great! I’ll text you the address and see you tonight, okay?”

She left a quick peck on Meg’s cheek and just as quickly as she came, she was walking out the door, vanishing in thin air like some sort of hurricane.

“What… what’d just happen?” Castiel asked, frowning.

“Yeah.” Meg chuckled and emptied the rest of her plastic cup. “That’s Ruby for you.”

* * *

“Listen, you don’t have to come. You can park the car around the corner or something and I’ll tell Ruby you had some sort of work-related mishap and you couldn’t make it. She’ll be pissed at me, but you won’t have to spend three hours pretending to be my boyfriend.”

It wasn’t that Castiel didn’t appreciate the offer. This type of social interactions made him feel very awkward, even with people he already knew. Now, sitting outside the Mexican restaurant that Ruby had chosen, he definitely couldn’t help the familiar pressure in his stomach and the anxiety of him saying something inappropriate that would embarrass Meg in front of her friend.

But then again, it wasn’t like Meg could “break up” with him for it. Because they weren’t really dating.

“You could always tell her the truth,” Castiel pointed out.

Meg sighed, her eyes glancing at the restaurant across the street.

“I mean, I could,” she admitted. “But that would just be humiliating.”

She didn’t have to explain why. Castiel could imagine it circled back to Sam and the fact that Meg hadn’t really moved on from him. He could imagine that it was annoying to have people telling her exactly what she needed to do with her love life, and it was convenient to have this excuse to avoid that. After all, the entire reason he’d moved away from his hometown was because his siblings and friends would not stop giving him unwanted opinions about the dissolution of his marriage.

So he understood exactly what Meg was going through. And if it helped her, well… he didn’t mind holding her hand and making idle chat for a while.

“We should get in, then,” Castiel said. “We don’t want to keep your friend waiting.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Meg insisted. “I mean… wouldn’t you rather go home and have dinner with… Anna?”

Castiel was surprised she knew her name. He probably had mentioned her sometime when they were talking about his several brothers and sisters, but he couldn’t really remember it right then.

“I’m sure my sister can handle one dinner without me.”

Meg’s reaction was strange. Her eyes opened and her eyebrows raised.

“Sister,” she repeated in a monotone voice.

“Yes, my sister. I’m living with her currently… I’m sure I mentioned this,” Castiel said, frowning.

“First time I hear about it.” Meg shrugged. It came off as she was trying very hard to make it seem like it was completely inconsequential for her, but she was also oddly fixated on it at the same time.

“Why is it…?”

“It’s not!” Meg reached for the door handle and opened the door quickly. “Let’s go, Ruby’s probably already waiting for us.”

She moved a little too fast and almost stumbled out of the door, holding unto it until Castiel went around the car and offered her his arm for her to hold on to. He had noticed she had problems standing up once she was sat down and wondered if it had anything to do with her back problems. Of course, he couldn’t really inquire about that without coming off as completely inappropriate.

She didn’t let go off his arm as they walked inside of the restaurant, and honestly, Castiel didn’t feel like complaining about it. Just as Meg had predicted, Ruby was already sitting down in one of the tables along with Tom, who slouched down on his own seat and held a glass of what seemed to be tequila on his hand.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Ruby greeted them, with a smile.

“Lovebirds?” Tom repeated, crooking an eyebrow.

“Cas, sit down,” Meg suggested, though it came so firm it was more like an order than anything else. “Tom, why don’t you walk me to the bar? I want one of those.”

Castiel was left alone with Ruby while the Masters siblings made their way around the tables, decorated with small red, green and white flags. There seemed to be a good mood all around the restaurant, with people talking and laughing out loud, but the tables were still far enough apart that one conversation didn’t interrupt the others.

Castiel barely had time to enjoy the good ambience, though, because as soon as Meg and Tom were out of sight, Ruby moved her chair closer to him, put her elbows on the table and threw a piercing gaze at him.

“So,” she started.

“S-so?” Castiel repeated, nervous at being on the receiving end of all that attention.

“I’m going to need details, Castiel,” she said, crooking an eyebrow. “A lot of them if you don’t mind.”

Castiel had been in the military and in several war zones. He’d been trained on what to do if he was ever captured and interrogated under duress. He’d been taught to keep his calm even under the most strenuous circumstances.

None of that had really prepared for the way that Ruby kept looking at him and expecting him to start talking. Meg’s friends were really some intense ladies.

“What… what kind of details?” he managed to ask in the end.

“All of them,” Ruby demanded. “Like, how did you two meet? Where did you take her on your first date? What are your plans for Meg?”

“Plans? I’ve only known Meg for a couple of months…” Castiel mumbled, trying not to panic. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He and Meg hadn’t agreed on a story about meetings and dates or any of that.

He quickly realized that was the smallest of his problems, though.

“So, you’re saying you’re not serious about dating her?” Ruby asked, her dark eyes alight with a threatening glimmer.

Castiel swallowed.

“Of course that’s not what I’m saying!” he protested. “It’s just that… Meg is… she is… she is amazing, but she is hard to get to know,” he concluded, his voice dropping an octave.

That was the best way he could describe it. Meg seemed to have such a lonely and structured life that it was hard to imagine she would have the time and will to include anyone in it. He could respect that.

He should respect that. He reminded himself over and over that this was just an act and that, in reality, Meg wouldn’t be interested in having a relationship with him, simply because she wouldn’t be interested in anybody.

And that was fine. He didn’t really care. He had no reason to care about what Meg did with her life. He was only in it for a brief moment and well, it was more than he had any right to expect.

Incredibly, his words managed to get Ruby to back off. She sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

“I know,” she sighed. “Don’t take it personally, though. She’s always been like this. When we were in college, she was a riot to be around. We went to parties together all the time and it was like we were trying to one up each other.” She pensively stirred her drink with the straw. “But when it came to other things, she just… she never really opened up, you know?”

Castiel eyed towards the bar. Meg and Tom were still standing around it, talking to each other and not even looking in their direction. He imagined Meg was briefing Tom on the situation to prevent any slip-ups on his part.

He really shouldn’t ask. It was none of his business. Maybe if he was really Meg’s boyfriend, perhaps this was something he should know. But he wasn’t. And he had no right to find out what an old friend of Meg had to say about this…

“How so?” he asked, and immediately wished he could strangle himself.

“I don’t know. It’s just not who she is. She thinks that she doesn’t need anybody, that she can deal with whatever life throws at her by herself,” Ruby explained. “But she can’t. Not always.” She stared at him again, even more seriously this time. “And that’s why she should have someone who can tell when she’s carrying too much by her side, you dig?”

Castiel nodded, the guilt growing inside of him like a monster that he needed to feed. Because Ruby wasn’t wrong, Meg deserved all of that and more. And he was there, taking up the space of a man she could have loved for real, a man she could introduce to her friends and go out on dates with. Or of no one at all, if that was what Meg chose. But this… it just wasn’t fair.

Meg and Tom returned with a bowl of nachos and cheese. Meg moved her chair closer to Cas and settled a margarita in front of him.

“I have to drive,” he reminded her, pathetically.

“I know. That’s why I ordered it virgin for you,” she said.

Tom snickered against his arm.

“Very mature,” Meg complained.

“What, it’s funny!” Tom replied. His face went serious a second later though, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed into slits that he focused on Castiel. “Real talk. What are your intentions towards my sister?”

“Tom, for the love of God,” Meg protested, and the seriousness in Tom face melted like ice as he burst into laughter.

“I just want her to be happy,” Castiel heard himself saying, as if those words were coming from someone else. “That’s all.”

Meg turned towards him, surprised once more. Ruby, on her part, just smiled softly.

“Good answer,” she congratulated him.

The rest of the night went on without a hitch. They drank some more margaritas, ate some tacos (which, Castiel noticed, were actually properly prepared and generously seasoned, just as they should) and laughed a lot about old stories from the past. Well, Ruby, Tom and Meg laughed about them, and even though they tried to tell Castiel those stories, it was obvious the three had been friends for too many years for him to keep up with all their inside jokes and references.

So Castiel simply sat there, making sure that Meg always had enough food and napkins and, after she switched to lemonade, that her glass was never empty. That was the sort of things boyfriend did, right? He was very inexperienced with these things, even at his age. April hadn’t exactly been the type to appreciate those sorts of details.

He stopped his thoughts right there. The night was a little awkward, but still relatively fun, and he wasn’t going to ruin it by thinking of his ex-wife.

And besides, soon enough Meg and Castiel found themselves in the position of being the two sober persons on the table while Ruby and Tom got increasingly drunk. Also, increasingly handsy with one another.

“Tell me something, Tommy, tell me…” Ruby slurred as she leaned on Tom. “Is it true that you dated Taylor Swift? Was she a good fuck?”

Tom chuckled softly and grabbed Ruby’s hand, leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“We hung out. I didn’t fuck her.”

“Why not?”

“Brunette is more my style.”

Ruby giggled as if that was the funniest thing she had ever heard in her life. Meg rolled her eyes.

“Here we go,” she mumbled, tiredly.

“Hey, hey, don’t judge!” Tom said, sliding his hand down Ruby’s back to place it around her waist.

“Yeah, just because you have a boo now doesn’t mean you get to judge us,” Ruby added.

“I will pay you money for you to never use the word ‘boo’ again.”

“Boo!” Ruby replied, rebellious, and Tom laughed. Castiel couldn’t tell if it was because he found that funny in his inebriated state or if he was just trying to support Ruby. “Are you even dating this guy?”

“Why would you ask that?” Meg replied, jumping back in her chair and looking at Tom and Castiel alternatively. Neither of them had said anything about the reality of their situation, though.

“You’ve been sitting there all night and you haven’t even kissed him!”

“I…”

Maybe it was the light, but Castiel had the impression that Meg’s cheeks were turning red all of a sudden.

“I don’t need to…” she mumbled, but Ruby stuck her tongue out at her and blew a raspberry.

“Have you even seen him? Like, look at that jaw… and those eyes… a guy that good looking, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of him!”

“You know I’m still right here, right?” Tom asked, offended.

“Oh, you’re handsome too,” Ruby assured him. “I’m just making sure Meg appreciates what she has.”

“I do appreciate it, thank you very much,” Meg replied. Her tone revealed her annoyance, but either Ruby was too drunk to notice it, or she outright decided to ignore it.

“Prove it,” she challenged Meg. “Give him a kiss.”

Meg’s eyes grew wide, a gesture of pure panic growing in her face.

“Wh— right now?” she stuttered.

“No time like the present!”

Meg looked at Tom, but her brother just stared back with his head tilted to the side. He seemed interested in what the outcome would be, but clearly didn’t intend to say anything to save Meg from the mess she was in.

Castiel also didn’t know how to react. On the one hand, he’d agreed to play his part in order to save Meg the embarrassment, but on the other…

Well, who was he trying to fool? He wasn’t opposed at all to kissing Meg again.

He cleared his throat.

“It’s fine,” he said, hoping she understood the message.

Meg’s eyes were wide and hesitant when they met his.

“Are you sure?”

“What’s the matter?” Ruby asked. “Is he shy?”

“You know, he is right here, and he can hear you,” Castiel snapped.

He didn’t mean to sound brusque, but Ruby’s egging was becoming very annoying. Luckily, that response was enough to stun her into silence. At least, for the time it took Castiel to turn all his attention back to Meg and place a hand on her cheek. She was warm and her skin felt soft under his fingertips. He ignored the way his heart began beating faster and tried to keep his eyes on hers instead of letting them wonder down to her lips.

“It’s fine,” he repeated.

Meg, as usual, managed to surprise him. She placed a hand on the back of his head and pulled his face down to hers.

Castiel barely had time to breath once before her mouth was on his and all the air was knocked from his lungs. His eyes closed involuntarily as he leaned into the kiss, trying to commit these sensations to memory: Meg’s perfume, the taste of her lip-gloss, the way the entire restaurant, the entire world, went quiet around him.

It must have lasted just a few seconds before she let him go. He was dizzy, because he’d forgotten to breathe. When he did again, it was shuddering and hot. Meg’s eyes were glossy and undecipherable and he realized, with sudden embarrassment, that he still had his hand on her cheek. He moved it away, but not too quickly. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to seem suspicious in front of Ruby and not because he wanted to keep touching Meg.

Apparently, the kiss was enough to convince Ruby, because she clapped at the same time she let out a long:

“Awwww!”

Meg cleared her throat and in a second, her mask of perfect annoyance was back on her face.

“Are you happy now?”

Maybe it wasn’t a mask. Maybe she was really annoyed with Ruby and now, also with Castiel, because of how he’d dared to take in the kiss like that.

“Well, I’m not unhappy,” Ruby said, a grin plastered in her face. “Now let me show how it’s really done!”

She grabbed Tom by the lapels of his shirt and pulled him, kissing him hungrily, open-mouthed and making soft, happy sounds that were halfway between a giggle and a moan. If Castiel had been able to formulate a single coherent thought, he might have been a bit more taken aback by the suddenness of that.

“Oh, my God, stop!” Meg complained.

Without breaking the kiss, Tom raised a middle finger in her direction.

“Waiter, the check, please!” Meg requested, waving at the first one that walked past their table. “And maybe a handful of pills or a knife to kill myself with.”

Ruby and Tom didn’t stop making out, even as Meg took out her wallet and paid for both her and Castiel, tip included. He was willing to be they didn’t even notice it when Meg grabbed him by the hand and lead him towards the door without even saying goodbye to them.

The warm summer air was exactly what Castiel needed to clear his head a little bit. He breathed in a couple of times and tried not to make too much out of the fact that Meg still had her hand firmly intertwined with his.

“You… you didn’t tell me your brother and Ruby had a… relationship.”

“That’s because they don’t,” Meg said, through gritted teeth. Castiel’s confusion must have reflected in his face, because she sighed and pinched her nose. “They dated back in college, then they broke up, then they started dating again. Then Tom moved to California to pursue his acting career and Ruby went to New York and now every time they get together, they just… you know. Do what they do. They still have a lot of unresolved things to deal with.”

That actually made him even more confused than before. If Ruby and Tom had feelings for each other, how come they didn’t decide to be together? But he didn’t want to make Meg more mortified than she already seemed to be, so he just muttered:

“Oh.”

Meg looked down and only them realized that they were still holding hands. She let go quickly and Castiel closed and open his fist a couple of times, trying to shake off the electric sensation in his palm.

“And what are we doing here?”

Meg raised a finger, indicating him to wait.

Five minutes later, Ruby and Tom stumbled out of the restaurant. Tom still had an arm lassoed around Ruby’s waist and she was leaning against him. They didn’t seem to want to let go of each other, even though that was a hazard when it came to walking.

“Hey, hey, Meg…” Ruby called out when she saw them. “They kicked us out. They couldn’t handle us.”

“You don’t say,” Meg said, in a completely flat tone. Castiel had the impression this wasn’t the first time it happened. Meg had probably fled the restaurant knowing that this was going to be the exact result. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna go with Ruby to her hotel,” Tom announced. “You know, to make sure she gets there safe.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” Ruby mumbled before hiding her face in his neck.

Tom sank his hand in his pocket and fished out his car keys.

“Can you keep these? I’m not… I think I had too many margaritas.”

“Probably,” Meg replied, wryly.

Tom threw them in the air and though Meg raised her hand to try and grab them, they flew past her and ended on the floor.

“Oops!” Tom said, already walking away as Ruby had just hailed a cab.

Meg let out a sigh of frustration and leaned over to pick up the keys… only for her to stumble. Castiel reacted quickly and caught her arm, holding her up right before she ended on the floor. Again. It was strange, she hadn’t drunk as much as her friend and brother had.

Maybe it was just how she was. Castiel had noticed she lost her balance a lot.

“Thank you,” Meg said, after he picked the keys for her and handed them over. She cleared her throat again. “I mean… for everything.”

“You don’t have to mention it. I’m here to help.”

Meg looked up at him and opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something else, but at the last second, she closed her mouth and shook her head. Castiel followed her to the car, under the impression that he had done or said something wrong to her. Had he? He wasn’t sure and unless Meg told him, he couldn’t know for sure.

They drove in silence for the first few minutes.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Meg asked him. “Pretending to date me, I mean.”

Castiel’s hands tightened around the wheel. How was he supposed to answer to that?

“No. It wasn’t… it wasn’t bad at all,” he said.

“Good,” Meg said. “Might be the last time we have to do that, if we’re lucky.”

“The investigation isn’t finished…”

“I mean because Tom is probably going to spill the beans during pillow talk tonight.”

Castiel had not imagined the possibility of Ruby and Tom discussing them, and he wasn’t sure he felt comfortable with the notion. He decided to ignore that for now.

“Well, I’m not… I have no regrets from having done it,” he said. It came out so stilted that he had to cringe to himself.

“You know what? Me neither,” Meg said after a pause. “Even considering what a bad kisser you are.”

Castiel heard a honk to his side and stepped abruptly on the brakes. He hadn’t realized they were so close to the red light, distracted as he was by Meg’s comment.

“What?”

“I mean, don’t take it personally,” she said, with a shrug. “It was just a bit lackluster, that’s all.”

There was no way he wasn’t going to take a comment like that personally. His head had been spinning the entire time since she’d kissed him. Hell, he couldn’t think of anything else since the incident with Dean Winchester… and now she was telling him she hadn’t felt the same way at all?

Well, of course she hadn’t. It had all been an act to distract her friends. Why did he think differently?

He still had to will himself to focus to search the apartment like he did every night. The comment just bugged him like a thorn sticking from his side or a scab he just kept picking at.

Meg was in the kitchen, placing her kettle on the stove.

“No bombs?” she asked like she did every night.

Castiel meant to answer in the same playful way, but what came out of his mouth was:

“It wasn’t really that bad, was it?”

Meg slowly turned around.

“What?”

“Kissing me,” Castiel explained. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Hey, I never said it was bad.” She raised her hands, defensively. “It was just… underwhelming, is all.”

Why did this bother him so much? It shouldn’t have mattered at all.

“Maybe because you caught me by surprise,” he said. “I wasn’t ready.”

Meg scoffed. She obviously wasn’t taking this conversation seriously, and if he was honest with himself, Castiel saw no reason why she should.

Except that it had become very important to him all of a sudden to prove to her that he could be a good kisser.

“You think you could do it better if I told you to kiss me right now?”

She probably didn’t mean it seriously. It was just another of her jokes and Castiel should have just left it at that.

What he did instead was to take a closer step towards her.

“Perhaps…”

Meg uncrossed her arms and let them fall to the sides of her body. She was open towards him, letting her guard down, and staring at him with an interested expression. Maybe she was wondering how far they could take this conversation.

“Well, why don’t you come here and prove it, tough guy?”

That should’ve been Castiel’s signal that they were taking this too far. They were on the edge of crossing a line that had been invisible until right that moment.

And he didn’t stop to wonder if he should. He didn’t stop to ask himself if it was wrong, because in that moment, it was the only right thing to do.

He put a hand on her waist, pulled her in and kissed her. Without witnesses, without anyone to fool. He kissed her deep and hard, because that was what he’d been wanting to do for a while: to revel in her warmth and her taste, to tangle his fingers in her long hair, to get lost in the sensation of her skin and her body shivering between his arms.

It felt like a mild insanity, a pull like gravity that he didn’t care to resist anymore.

And even more so when Meg slid her hand under his coat, pulling him closer, when she opened her mouth and moaned softly against him. He slid his hand down her back, grabbing her waist, ready to pull her up against himself…

A loud, infuriating whistle broke the spell.

Meg put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him away. Castiel took a second to catch his breath, to try to understand what the hell was that loud insistent sound that had pulled them back down from the heights they were reaching.

The kettle. The goddamn kettle was screaming, and Meg was sliding away from his grasp to turn the stove off. He could only see her profile now, but he noticed that her face was red, and she was breathing almost as heavily as him.

“Okay,” she muttered. She ran a hand through her hair, all her movements stilted and nervous. “I think you should go now.”

If she’d thrown a glass of cold water directly into his face, the effect wouldn’t have been greater.

“Meg, I…”

“Just… I just…” She shook her head, refusing to even look at him. “I need you to go.”

Castiel realized he was still close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body, so he stepped back.

“I… I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Just… go!” she repeated.

There were a million things Castiel wanted to say. He wanted to explain to her that he couldn’t stop thinking about her even when he shouldn’t, even when it wasn’t appropriate for him to do so. He wanted to tell her that he’d been watching her and wondering what it would be like to see who she was behind the barriers she’d placed around herself so carefully. He wanted to apologize again and again, because he wasn’t sure he could handle her not looking at him anymore, like she was doing right now.

But he turned around and walked out of the apartment instead.

He stood outside the door, the embarrassment for what he’d done washing over him. How did he think this was going to end? He was an idiot. Of course, Meg hadn’t felt the same way about him, and of course now he’d made her so uncomfortable that she was probably going to ask her father to fire him. And he’d deserve nothing less.

He deserved nothing less than to never see her again.

He squashed the impulse to knock on her door and ask her to forgive him. He forced the five steps that separated Meg’s door from the elevator and got inside, even though every cell in his body was screaming at him to go back to her at once.

He punched the buttons for the door to close quickly and then leaned his head against the wall.

What the hell was he going to do now?


	6. Chapter 6

The moment Castiel closed the door behind him, Meg fell apart.

Her hands were shaking and the floor felt unsteady; everything around her was spinning. So she just leaned her back against the wall and slid down, hiding her face in her hands as she did so. She felt like crying and she had no idea why.

No, she knew exactly why.

It had been too much.

She kept replaying it all in her head: Castiel’s hands on her, his breath on her face, the firmness of his body when she’d clung to him for dear life, because there was a hurricane blowing around them and he was the only thing that made sense.

And right before he’d kissed her, that look in his eyes… that look of hunger, of naked desire…

It had been a while since a man had looked at her like that. Even before she called off her engagement with Sam, the occasions when he’d wanted her the way Castiel did had been rare.

There was no two ways around it. What she’d seen in him right then, what she felt when he’d kissed her, so forceful, so insistent…

And dammit, she hadn’t cared. Not a rational thought had crossed her mind until the kettle had whistled. She had just been so lost in that whirlwind of feelings she hadn’t stopped to think for a second how disastrous this could be.

Yes, she had been harboring a little crush on Castiel, maybe flirting with him here and there. Yes, it was nice that Ruby and Rowena had finally stopped worrying about her. Yes, she knew now that Castiel was a free agent and that she shouldn’t feel guilty about what she was doing.

But all of that had been pretending, lying to everyone, including herself, that he wasn’t interested and that nothing would come of it. In the security that none of it was real and that it really didn’t matter, she had let herself get carried away.

And then Castiel had gone and made it real.

She sank her face in her hands.

Why did he have to be like that? Always so earnest, always so kind. Why the hell did he have to make her so attracted to him that she hadn’t been able to resist it when he was there with her?

Of course, that wasn’t his fault. He had done nothing wrong, except going along with everything she’d asked him to do. If she was being truly honest with herself, the problem wasn’t Castiel at all.

It was the fact that she still couldn’t bear to hear Sam’s name or see his face. It was that she still could hear his steps echoing on the living room as he headed for the door. It was how she still slept on one side of the bed and every once in a while sank her face in his pillow and imagined that she could still smell his cologne there.

It was the fact that three years had not been nearly enough for her to move on.

She clung to the kitchen counter and lifted herself up from the floor. She managed to do it without her legs giving out, which made her terribly proud. She’d changed her mind about making herself tea. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry anymore.

She walked to the room and opened the last drawer in her desk. At the very bottom of it, behind papers she hadn’t looked at in a while, she found the little red box with Mary Winchester’s engagement ring inside.

As far as those went, it wasn’t all that impressive, just a simple golden band with a little diamond in the middle. The sentimental value was what truly mattered. Sam had asked her to become part of his family, to share their lives the way his parents had. He’d never known his mother, because she’d died when he was but a baby, but he’d known that his father had loved her so much that he could never really move on from his grief. His life had spiraled out of control and he’d been neglectful, but Sam didn’t harbor any resentment towards him. He had always aspired to be a bigger man than his father had been.

She still knew all these things about him, the things that had made her fall in love with him. And she had to think that Sam still knew all the things about her that she’d told him: how she’d never felt connected to her parents because her father was always on the campaign trail and her mother expected her to be like her, a trophy wife whose only job was to support her husband and raise their kids. How Meg hadn’t thought she was really good enough for much more than to follow her father’s plan for her, that she was being rebellious back in college because she knew that at some point she’d have to fall in line. How Sam had encouraged her to be better, to do better, to actually find a path for herself.

And of course, he knew exactly why she’d have to end it.

It had been a dick move on his part, to leave the ring behind. As if it was indicating that it was up to her, if she changed her mind, to call him and tell him to come home, to try again. He knew she was way too proud to do that.

It was more than that, though. It was the absolute and unshakeable conviction that she had done the right thing. It’d hurt like hell then and it still did now, but looking at the trajectory of Sam’s life and hers, it was obvious that them falling apart had been inevitable. Meg had the foresight for that, and she hated it.

She shut the ring box and turned to put it back in its place. Then, at the last second, she placed it on top of her desk instead, like a visual reminder.

She had a decision to make.

* * *

Her father’s chauffer picked her up at ten o’clock like every Saturday, and like every Saturday, Meg made him wait for it. She always waited until the last possible second to make her overnight bag. Being late to the lunch was her own subtle way to fuck with this last remnant of her father’s control over her life.

“Good morning, Lenny.”

Lenny, the chauffer, gave her the stink eye for keeping him waiting, but he still greeted her back with a curt:

“How are you, Miss Masters?”

Her father’s minions seemed pathologically incapable of calling her by her actual title. Meg handed him her bag and slid in the backseat of the car without answering that question. She’d barely slept a wink that night, she was a mess of confusing thoughts inside, but nobody needed to know that. Not Lenny, not her parents, not even Tom.

The trip to the state was as uneventful as always. Meg had to submit herself to a check-up by the security guys that her father kept posted by the gate every day. She was starting to think that the man was growing increasingly paranoid, but again, that was none of her business.

“Miss Masters,” Duma, the maid, greeted her at the door.

“Doctor,” Meg corrected her, though she already knew it’d be futile. She handed her the bag. She could have gone up and left it in her old room herself, but her back was aching, and she didn’t feel like climbing the stairs more than was strictly necessary.

The lounging room was spotless, as usual, with its white curtains and matching carpet, the shelves that displayed hardcover books that Meg would have bet her life no one had touched in ages and so, so many pictures: of their family together when she and Tom were children, of both her high school and college graduation and at least half a dozen of his father with several political personalities.

The only thing that looked out of place was Tom, slumped down on one of the couches. He was wearing a pair of jeans with no holes in them and a nice shirt, but he also had sunglasses covering his face and a hickie on his neck. She couldn’t resist the chance to lean over and whisper in his ear:

“Rough night?”

He startled and sat up, looking around until he located her and then seemed to calm down.

“Oh, it’s just you,” he said, slumping down again. “I thought it was someone important.”

“Fuck you very much,” Meg replied. She wanted to sit down in one of the armchairs, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get up again once she did, so instead, she walked away and leaned against the window’s still.

“Don’t let mom catch you using that language. It’s _unbecoming_.”

He imitated their mother’s tone of voice so perfectly that Meg couldn’t help but to laugh.

“How’s Ruby?”

“She was fine when I left her at the hotel this morning.” Tom shrugged and a grin appeared on his face. “We had breakfast in bed.”

“Subtle.” Meg rolled her eyes.

But she wasn’t really looking to antagonize her brother. In fact, she felt it was one of those rare occasions when she might actually need his advice. Tom was her older brother, but he’d rarely acted as such. As Meg had left her partying ways behind, his had intensified after he’d moved to Hollywood. Her mom always congratulated her on being the more mature of the two, but she wasn’t sure how much that really meant. Tom was happy, in his own way. She tried to be, as well, but she didn’t always succeed.

“Can I ask you something?”

Tom must have been able to tell from her tone that she was serious, because he straightened his back and turned his attention towards her.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “You and Ruby, I mean. This… thing that you got going.”

“Well, that’s pretty simple.” Tom took off his glasses. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles underneath them, indicating that he had slept almost nothing the night before. Though probably for very different reasons than her. He smiled as he added: “She’s the love of my life.”

Meg was surprised. Tom had always talked with fondness about Ruby, but he’d never expressed himself in such… strong terms before.

And she understood it even less now.

“But you’re always away from each other,” she pointed out. “You both date other people…”

“Well, yeah, we’re on different ends of the country. Did you expect us to stay celibate?” He laughed as if the very idea was hilarious to him.

“I don’t know. I expected you to… compromise, somehow. For you to move to New York or for her to go to California with you. Something like that.”

Tom toyed with his sunglasses.

“We’ve talked about it,” he admitted. “And we’ve come to the conclusion that if it’s meant to be, it’ll be. We’re happy to meet in the middle now and then in the meantime.”

Meg had the feeling that there was more to it than Tom was letting on, but she preferred not to ask anymore. He would clam up if she did and that was the last thing she needed.

“In any case,” he concluded, “I prefer having Ruby now and then and still love her than have her every day and hate her while pretending to love her, like our parents do.”

“See, I could never do that,” she said, instead. “When I’m with someone, I want them to be _with me_. No half-ways and definitely no sharing.”

“Is that why you called it off with Winchester?” Tom asked. He never called Sam by his first name, for reasons Meg simply couldn’t fathom. “Because he wanted to go to Washington?”

“Part of the reason,” Meg said, carefully. She hated that she couldn’t see if someone was coming down the hallway and standing right out of her sight behind the arch. It wouldn’t be the first time her mother eavesdropped on conversations that weren’t meant for her. She lowered her voice just in case: “If he was the love of my life, I screwed it up forever.”

“He wasn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you said ‘if’,” Tom pointed out. “If he was, you wouldn’t have doubts about it.”

Meg was tempted to ask how the hell would he know. He’d just declared a woman he saw twice a year and with whom he’d broken up and made up more times than Meg cared to remember to be the love of his life. That didn’t sound too healthy.

Before she could, though, Tom continued:

“You’ve gone this long without trying to make things up with him. I would say, that’s a pretty good indicator too. I’m sure you loved him, but in the end, you let him go. If he was the love of your life, you wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“How do you know I’ve let go?” Meg asked. “Maybe I’m just better than you think at hiding the pain.”

“I’m sure you are. But the thing is, you could have walked down the street and found another person to love like that.” Tom snapped his fingers. “If you haven’t let go, it’s not because you _can’t_. It’s because you _won’t_. You’ve kept that wound open for so long you don’t know who you’ll be if you let it close.”

Meg stared at him, a little annoyed. Not because he wasn’t right; on the contrary, he’d hit the nail in the head. And she hated it.

“Last time I checked, you’re an actor, not a therapist.”

“Well, I did play a therapist in one of my movies.”

“Yeah… I’m not sure that’s the same thing at all.”

“You just lack imagination, dear sister.”

Meg huffed at him, but the truth was she did feel better. The whirlwind in her head hadn’t stopped blowing, but at least she could hear herself think over it.

“Oh, you’re here!” said an annoying preppy voice to her right. “Great! Your father asked me to lead you to the living room.”

Meg had to wonder how much her father was paying to Cecily that she came in to work on a Saturday. And she seemed super preppy about it, too.

“Today you’re having lunch with one of your father’s donors,” Cecily told them, as she scribbled something on the clipboard she was carrying. “You will be interested to meet him, Miss Masters. He’s a doctor.”

She’d said it like medicine was one of Meg’s hobbies and not her goddamn job. Meg looked at her and wondered how old she was. Twenty-nine, thirty? Younger than Meg and Tom, in any case. Yet, she still managed to sound as condescending as their mother sometimes.

“What’s the guy’s name?” Meg asked, sighing. Of course, the only reason that her father had asked her to come in for a “family lunch” was because it would please one of his medicine donors.

“Dr. Matthew Green,” Cecily said, with grandiloquence. As if that was supposed to mean anything to Meg. “Mr. Crowley will also be here.”

Meg suppressed a grimace. She’d never got along with Crowley. She understood that he was one of her father’s closest collaborators, but that didn’t mean the guy didn’t give her shivers every time they were alone in the same room for longer than five minutes. When she was younger, especially, she had the unnerving feeling that his eyes always lingered on her a little longer than it was necessary, that he always shook her hand a little tighter than he should. He’d never done or said anything inappropriate, of course, because (Meg wanted to believe) that would’ve cost him his job. But he’d still been enough of a creep that she’d stopped wearing dresses and short skirts around him.

And then, of course, there was that whole business with her mother… Meg would rather not think about it.

That day she’d chosen jeans and a simple blouse, nothing too formal, nothing too casual. Just the way she was expected to dress for a “family lunch” that actually wasn’t such. So she felt confident enough that she could pass her mother’s rigorous outfit tests.

“Showtime, I guess,” Tom said. He’d stood up with a hop and tended his hand towards Meg so she could lean into him.

She was thankful for that. Tom never talked about what was going on with her, but little gestures like that let her know that he was mindful enough of it.

Cecily, on her part, either didn’t know or didn’t care, because she walked so fast that she easily left them behind on the way to the dining room.

“Your children are here, Senator Masters,” she announced, like she was some sort of glorified butler. Which she was, Meg figured.

“Ah, good!” Azazel said, smiling wide as Tom and Meg entered. “Come on in! Meg, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is Dr. Green.”

Dr. Green was the sort of doctor that gave small children nightmares. He had small sunken eyes and a smile that made Meg think of skulls. Still, she had to appreciate him a little because the first thing he told her was:

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Masters. I have read much about your work.”

“Why, thank you very much,” Meg said, hoping she could’ve done the same. Why didn’t so fucking efficient Cecily send her an email letting her know she should’ve done some homework not to let down her father’s guest?

She was trying to come up with something to say when her mother opened the sliding doors to the left.

“Tom!” she said. Her heels clicked over the floor as she took several long strides towards them. “Meg!”

Meg let her grab her by the shoulders and give her a kiss in each cheek. Lilith Masters either counted with the best plastic surgeons in all of the country (and Meg knew for a fact they had enough money to afford them) or she followed such a rigorous beauty regime it simply couldn’t be matched by anything her daughter had the time and energy to do. Lilith had long, blonde curls that fell on her shoulders and her pristine face indicated she could be anywhere between thirty and fifty years of age. She always wore glamorously, like right now, when she had a long, flowery dress on that floated along her legs every time she took a step.

She gave Meg’s outfit a onceover and then nodded briefly, approving of it.

“The food is ready, dear,” she announced. “Why don’t you all come on in and take a seat?”

“Wonderful.” Azazel put a hand on her waist and gave her a quick kiss on the edge of the lips. There was no passion put into it, a simple automatic gesture that he’d done so many times over the years that he simply didn’t pay attention to it anymore. “We’ll be right over.”

Meg grimaced and Tom raised his eyebrows at her, as if to say, “What did I tell you?” It was hard to be offended by that, though. They’d known since they were teenagers that their parents’ marriage was a loveless one.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t any less painful to watch.

Still, they all pretended that everything was fine in front of the very big, important donor. Meg struggled with it more than Tom did, but she still managed to smile at Dr. Green and talk with him through the lunch.

Which was long, because Lilith’s idea of a lunch meant at least three main courses plus desert.

“I understand you’re doing some revolutionary work with Dr. MacLeod,” Dr. Green said. He pronounced it wrong, like it was two words instead of one. Rowena would’ve smacked him. At least Meg was sitting next to Crowley, who was drinking whiskey steady on the other side of the table and boring Tom with anecdotes of the times he performed Shakespeare back in Scotland.

“I was a perfect Macbeth,” he was saying while Tom nodded patiently. “I’ve got ravenous reviews on my performance.”

“We are, yes.” Meg forced out a smile. “We’ve done great advances on our research.”

“Really?” Dr. Green pushed his glasses up his nose. “I would love to read it!”

Meg bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t paranoid that someone was going to steal her work, but Rowena had instilled on her a healthy prudence when it came to oversharing.

“Well, then, you’ll have to hold on until we’re ready to publish the results.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” her father intervened. “I’m sure you can give Dr. Green a sneak peek.”

Meg gave him a sideways glance, not sure if that was one of her father’s “strong suggestions” that she couldn’t really refuse. She was going to anyway.

“And I’m sure Dr. Green understands the dangers of sharing incomplete research,” she said. “We’re still on the very early stages of testing our new drug in human volunteers. It’s going to be maybe another year until we’re ready to try on more volunteers.”

“Why does it take so long?” Lilith asked. She sounded a little annoyed.

“To make sure there aren’t any casualties, mother,” Meg said. She tried not to sound exasperated by that very inane question, but she wasn’t certain of her success. “When it comes to people’s healthy, one can’t be too careful.”

“I don’t agree with this,” Dr. Green said. “I believe there are too many regulations.”

Meg was slightly taken aback by that position.

“Could there be such thing?”

“When it hampers progress and scientific research, of course,” Dr. Green said, nodding energetically. “Too many steps and too many rules, usually implemented by people who have no idea what they’re doing or what they’re talking about.”

“I have to say, you’re right,” Azazel intervened. “The bureaucracy to the get a new drug tested and approved… wouldn’t you like it to go a little faster, Meg?”

“No,” Meg replied, without a second of hesitation. “I would like it to go right.”

She realized by the awkward silence that followed that she’d said the wrong thing. Obviously, Dr. Green’s interest in her father’s campaign was to get it to gut those regulations, and she was brought there simply as an example of a bright young mind that was being laid low by the FDA’s ridiculous rules when it came to _human experimentation_.

And she’d gone and ruin it by not complaining loudly about all of that. Welp. She wasn’t going to take it back, so she raised her chin and continued eating like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Dr. Green cleared his throat.

“Well, that’s because you’re still very young. You think you have all the time in the world,” he said. His tone was condescending. “For someone like me, for other researchers that have had their work stopped for years… it can get a little frustrating.”

Meg decided she didn’t like Dr. Green much after all. There was something to be said about being too callous with human life in the name of science, but she wasn’t going to bring that polemic up. She had already fucked up, though it wasn’t unsalvageable.

Tom came to her rescue.

“Dr. Green, my agent sent me a script recently. It’s a biopic of the first doctor to perform open heart surgery,” he said. “If you know anything about that history, I would appreciate it if you share with me. Also, if you don’t mind, maybe I could base my performance on your likeness?”

Dr. Green’s eyes lit up and his skull-like grin appeared again on his face.

“Why, of course, I would be delighted to share everything I know with you…”

Meg didn’t say much for the rest of the meal and she excused herself when Duma started serving the coffee and dessert. She’d had more than she could handle of this “family lunch”-slash-sucking up to one her father’s donor.

She figured it wouldn’t matter if she just disappeared for the rest of the day. Her mother would probably wake her up early the following morning so they could all go to church. None of them was religious, but there were appearances to be kept.

Meg took the stairs one step at a time. Her back complained and screamed every time she climbed another one and she wasn’t sure that her legs weren’t going to give up after a while. And what she had to look forwards to was to lock herself up in her in her room and think about Castiel some more, but even that was better than pretending to be nice to that mad scientist masquerading as a doctor downstairs.

She crossed paths with Cecily on the upper hall.

“What are you…?” Meg asked.

Cecily grinned at her, wide and calmly.

“I needed to use the facilities,” she said.

Meg knew for a fact that there was another bathroom downstairs, but she decided not to question her. In fact, she’d forgotten about Cecily entirely after they’d sat down to eat.

“You weren’t at the lunch.”

“Oh, I ate in the kitchen with Duma.”

“Really?” Meg blinked a couple of times. “Doesn’t it bother you that my dad treats you like a glorified maid?”

Cecily’s smile remained the same, but Meg thought she saw something hardening in her blue yes.

“I do whatever the Senator needs me to,” she replied, in her usual chirpy tone. “Do you need something from me, Miss Masters?”

Meg glared at her, unable to hide her irritation, but resisting the urge to correct her. Some people were just not going to respect her, no matter how many times she asked them too.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Good,” Cecily said, with a beam and walked past Meg. Meg had taken two steps towards her room when she heard her calling. “Miss Masters?”

Meg sighed deeply and turned to look at her.

“I know I haven’t been working for your father for long,” Cecily said, still with a smile. “But I do hope we can get along.”

“Sure,” Meg replied, containing the urge to roll her eyes. She got inside of her room, shaking her head. That girl was definitely too weird for her taste.

* * *

On Monday, Meg was ready at eight o’clock sharp. Partly because she hadn’t slept well, and partly because she didn’t want to keep Castiel waiting. If what had happened on Friday was torturing her, she could only imagine it was ten times worse for him.

It was better that they put it to rest once and for all.

So, when the intercom rang, Meg was already on her way to the door, keys in hand. Castiel was outside, waiting for her with a cup holder in his hand. His eyes were wider than ever, and Meg had the impression he seemed a little scared to see her, but in the end, he took a step forwards and handed her the coffee, like every morning.

“I, uh… I ordered it just how you like it,” he said, cringing.

“Thanks,” Meg muttered. “Umh… let’s go.”

Traffic was light, which meant they had maybe twenty minutes alone in the car to get through. The silence was thick and uncomfortable. Castiel’s shoulders were tense, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than they needed to. Meg bit the inside of her cheek and then decided the best way to deal with this was to just jump into it headfirst.

“Do you want to talk about Friday?” she asked.

“Not really, no,” Castiel said. Well, that didn’t go far. However, after a few seconds, Castiel opened his mouth again: “I do feel like I need to apologize to you, though. I’m sorry. The way I acted was thoroughly inappropriate and it won’t happen again.”

Meg quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Did you rehearse that?”

“I… spent a long time looking for the right words to say,” he admitted.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Meg said and Castiel cringed. “You have nothing to apologize for. I have been teasing you and hitting on you for the past weeks, like what were you supposed to think when I told you to kiss me?”

“That doesn’t mean I should’ve…”

“Cas, listen,” she cut him off. “It’s not your fault that I was sending mixed signals, okay? I just… I thought you weren’t picking up on any of them.”

They stopped at a red light. Castiel tapped on the wheel.

“I was… trying not to get my hopes up,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think you meant anything by it at first, but then…”

The light changed and he left that sentence without ending as he sped up down the street. Meg looked out of the window, simply because she didn’t think she could handle what he was telling her right now.

She hadn’t been wrong. He really did want her. It was almost too much for her to process.

They finally entered the hospital’s parking lot. Meg’s first impulse was to bolt out of there and pretend like this conversation hadn’t happened… but that wasn’t fair to Castiel.

“So, what do we do now?” Meg asked.

Castiel sighed and closed his eyes, like he had been fearing that exact question.

“If you would like to tell your father to fire me and find you a different bodyguard, you would be within your right. If you’d like to not see me again, I…”

“Did I say that?” Meg interrupted him.

Castiel stopped talking and slowly turned to look at her. His eyes glimmered and his lips were slightly parted, like he was holding his breath. Meg had never wanted more to climb in his lap and do unspeakable things to him.

And she could. Well, not right here, but eventually. If she played her cards right.

“I know we both probably overthought this greatly the last couple of days,” she started. “But I didn’t arrive to any conclusion. Did you?”

“No. Not one worth mentioning, in any case.”

Meg contained the impulse to ask what his conclusion had been and continued:

“And I do want you around while I figure this out.” She hesitated, but in the end, she saw no reason not to do it. She stretched her hand and placed it over his. He jumped a little, but he didn’t try to shake her off. “Is that alright?” Meg asked.

Castiel’s eyes met with hers. Meg’s began racing faster, but she stayed very still, as if any sudden movement could suddenly scare him off.

“Yes,” he said in the end, and a soft smile appeared on his lips. “That’s just fine.”

“Good,” Meg replied. And that was just as well. “In the meantime, let’s just keep doing what we do.”

“You mean the part about lying to all of your friends about our relationship status?”

She gave him an alarmed look, but noticed immediately that he was smiling.

“Sarcasm ain’t cute.”

He chuckled softly as she opened the door. Of course she stumbled a little while she walked out, but for some reason, she felt lighter. It was good to know what page they were on, and it was good to know he was willing to wait for her to get her head in the right place…

Her cellphone rang with a private number when she was about to walk into the hospital.

“Hello?”

“Meg.”

She froze. That was the last voice she’d expected to hear.

“Sam,” she muttered. She leaned on the handrail and breathed in deeply. She’d just had a fucking breakdown over this man not three days ago, and she was taking a few hesitant steps into getting to know someone else. Why the hell was he calling her now? But she needed to keep it together. “Well… hello… long time. Uh… is this about the ring thing?”

“No. Well, it is but…” Sam made a pause and Meg could picture him in her mind pinching the bridge of his nose like he did when he was exasperated. “Did you send the feds after my brother?”

Meg didn’t answer, simply because the question made absolutely no sense to her.

“What?”

“This Agent Henriksen guy came to interrogate Dean about some threats to your dad and got a subpoena for his place and computer and… listen, I know he was out of line, but all of this wasn’t necessary.”

“What?” Meg repeated, because she honestly felt like she’d fallen down some rabbit hole while she wasn’t looking and now she was in sort of alternate reality she didn’t recognize.

“Dean is willing to apologize to you, but…”

“Sam, slow down.” Meg leaned over the rail. “I have no idea what you’re talking…”

Her voice trailed off as her eyes fell on Castiel. He was sitting behind the wheel, the newspaper opened in front of his face. The same soft smile as before was still in his lips.

And the realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Can I call you back?”

“Meg, I need you to…”

Meg ended the call without listening to the rest of what Sam had to say. She was simply too furious. She managed to make all the way back to the car without falling on her face, which she appreciated, because dammit, Castiel needed to hear what she had to say. He caught her out of the corner of his eye and immediately exited the car.

“Meg, what’s the problem?”

“You told someone about when Dean was here?”

He couldn’t even deny it. The guilt in his face was far too clear.

“What the hell, Cas?!” she exclaimed. “I specifically asked you not to do that! You promised you wouldn’t!”

“I know,” he said. He lowered his eyes but then lifted them up again, his jaw clenched with decision. “But I thought it was necessary to inform…”

“And I thought it wasn’t!” Meg interrupted him. “You couldn’t just believe me?”

“It’s not a matter of believing you or not. It’s a matter of keeping you safe. That’s my job.”

Meg’s grip tightened around her phone while she searched for some sort of answer to throw at him, anything, that would make him understand just how much he’d fucked up and…

“Meg!”

Rowena ran at them, her heels clacking against the asphalt as she approached them. Her face was as read as her hair and she looked slightly panicked. She hadn’t even taken her coat off before she’d run outside and she was clutching her phone, clearly disturbed.

“It’s Bobby Singer! He’s just had a heart attack!” she announced.

Meg blinked at her. Was the name supposed to mean anything to her…?

“He’s one of our trial patients!”

“Shit,” Meg muttered and then, as the realization dawned on her, she repeated: “Shit!”

“His daughter just called me. They’re in the St. Martin’s, a few blocks from here.”

“We have to go see him!”

“Get in,” Castiel said, opening the backseat door.

Meg glared at him. She was still pissed off, but this took priority. What if they gave him something at the hospital that made him have a bad reaction combined with their drug? Worse, what if it was the drug that had given him the heart attack?

All these thoughts and more ran through Meg’s head while they drove towards the other hospital.

“I’m sure he’ll be…”

“Shut up and just drive,” Meg snapped. Castiel shrunk a little and did exactly that.

Rowena, who had been frantically writing something in her phone, threw a look at them.

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“What is the daughter saying?” Meg asked, dodging the question.

“She’s not picking up and she’s not answering my texts,” Rowena replied, biting her lip. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Well, then we’ll have…”

The crash happened so fast that it knocked the air out of her lungs. In a second, they were spinning around over themselves, the wheels screeching over the asphalt, her entire body shaking like a rag doll in the hands of an angry child.

A sudden pain in the side of her head, the deafening sound of glass shattering.

And then, absolutely nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

Rowena screamed out, her Scottish accent becoming so thick her words were unintelligible.

“What the hell?! What the…?!”

Castiel’s senses were heightened by the sudden rush of adrenaline running through his veins. That’s why it only took him a second to realize several things at the same time: the car had stopped, they hadn’t crashed against anything or anyone else (by some miracle) and Meg’s body was lying by his side, limp and with her eyes closed. The passenger window was cracked where her head had hit it and there was a pale stain of blood that made his stomach churn.

But none of that was what made him jump into action. It was the fact the black van that had charged against them was backing down the street, getting ready to strike them again.

“Doctor MacLeod! Rowena!” he screamed, opening the glove compartment quick. “Make sure she’s okay!”

“What are you going to do? Why do you have that?!” Rowena screamed when she spotted the Glock in Castiel’s hand.

“Just check on Meg, please!” he repeated. In a single movement, he unfastened his seat belt, opened the door and turned towards the van barreling down at them.

He stationed his elbows over the roof of the car and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times, in rapid succession. The smell of powder itched in his nose and the shots echoed on the street, followed by the din of metal scraping and bending. The van had stopped brusquely at the first shot and the only reason Castiel didn’t squeeze the trigger a fourth time was because whoever it was that drove it realized they were not going to win this. They backed away quickly and turned left on the corner, hailed by a chorus of honking and people shouting at them.

Castiel suppressed the impulse to jump over the car and run after them to try and get a good look at the plaques. The only reason he didn’t was because Meg was unconscious in the car. Meg, who he was supposed to protect. Meg, who if something happened to her, the last thing she’d felt for him would have been bitterness and betrayal…

He shook away those gloomy thoughts and leaned down to look inside the car. Meg was still in the same position as before. Rowena sat closer to her, pale and disheveled, with two fingers on her neck.

“Her… her pulse is regular…” she told Castiel. “Nothing appears to be broken.”

Castiel let out a sigh of relief.

“Good. That’s good.”

“Yes, wonderful,” Rowena muttered. “Shouldn’t we call 911?”

“I think someone has already done that for us,” Castiel commented, as the wailing of sirens grew louder and louder in the distance.

“That’s great.” Rowena moved back into the seat. “If you don’t mind, darling, I’m going to pass out now.”

She closed her eyes and went limp just as the last words left her lips.

Castiel watched her just to make sure she was still breathing and then sat behind the wheel, stretching his hand to gently place it over Meg’s warm arm. He didn’t dare to touch her anymore, in case moving her would injure her further.

“You’re okay,” he said, his heart beating fast as his eyes were locked on her face. He could hear cars pulling behind them and people screaming at them. The guy in the van had got away and he would have to give a lot of explanations to Agent Henriksen and Senator Masters. But nothing seemed to mattered as much as that one simple fact: “You’re okay…”

* * *

The hours that followed were a flurry of activity. Castiel barely remembered anything from it, except for the fact that he’d had to fight the paramedics so they would let him ride the ambulance along with Meg.

“Sir, we need to check that you’re not injured…”

“I am not!” Castiel assured the paramedic checking up on him while her partners pried the passenger door opened (or what was left of it) and gently pulled Meg out of it. “I can assure you, I am not.”

“You could still be in shock…”

“Listen to me: I am not leaving my girlfriend alone!”

Later, he would have time to wonder what had compelled him to refer to Meg in those terms and if it had been appropriate or not. Right then, all he knew was the they were putting a cervical collar on her and loading her up in the ambulance without him. But those were apparently the magic words, because the paramedic stopped protesting and took a step backwards.

“Okay, sir. I guess we can check you on the ride to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Castiel muttered, as relief washed over him one more time. It was exhausting, these up and downs of caring for someone as deeply as he did for Meg.

Far more than a bodyguard should for their principal.

It didn’t know why that surprised him. He’d known that for a while. But the depths of his concern for her was simply far too great for someone who was just “figuring out” what was happening between the two.

“Where’s my cellphone?” he asked with a startle.

The paramedics, who’d been busy checking up on Meg, all looked at him as if he’d just asked where the moon was.

“Don’t you have on yourself, sir?”

He didn’t. He’d left it on the car along with the Glock after giving the officers who showed up a quick explanation. All he had on the pockets of his overcoat was his wallet.

“I need to call her family,” he muttered, as panic grew over him. “I need to let them know…”

Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. He was inspiring, but his lungs were empty and everything around him was spinning again…

“Sir, put your head between your knees. Take in deep, short breaths,” the paramedic who’d wanted to examine him instructed him. “I told you, you could be in shock.”

“Give me something for it, then,” Castiel demanded.

The paramedic’s mouth fell down in shock.

“Sir, I can’t…”

“I need to stay awake,” Castiel explained. “I can’t… I can’t fall apart on her right now.”

“Alright, alright, take it easy, Romeo,” one of the other paramedics intervened. “She’s fine. You can call her family from the hospital. See? We’re already here.”

Castiel’s legs felt like jelly when he jumped down from the ambulance. He considered it a small miracle that he didn’t fall down on his face. The paramedics took Meg’s gurney out and rolled it away, but he couldn’t follow her, because another one grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into an examining room.

“You can go to her later,” he told her firmly as he held a flashing light to his pupils. “How are you feeling right now?”

Castiel was still anxious and worried, but he managed to keep his composure long enough for the paramedic to declare that he wasn’t in shock and let him go.

“Okay, don’t eat or drink anything for the next couple of hours or you might vomit,” he recommended. “There’s a pay phone down the hallway. You can call your girlfriend’s family from there.”

Castiel didn’t know any of their numbers, but he did find something useful inside of his wallet: Agent Henriksen’s card.

“What do you mean you were ambushed?” he exclaimed after picking up the phone.

“A black van, a VW, I think. I couldn’t take a look at the driver and the plates were covered,” Castiel informed him. “But I did shoot it, so the bullet holes should be a dead giveaway.”

“Okay, back up. Start from the beginning…”

Castiel did the best he could to control his impatience.

“I think it could be best if you came here and I explained everything face to face. I also need you to call Dr. Masters and Dr. MacLeod’s families.”

Henriksen was so shocked that he managed to not be offended that Castiel was giving him orders on what to do.

Afterwards, there wasn’t much Castiel could do. They wouldn’t give him any updates on how Meg was doing, except that she was “out of immediate danger” and they needed to make some “further tests”. He felt annoyingly impotent. He had one job, and he couldn’t do it correctly.

But there were still things he could do for her.

“Robert Singer?” the receptionist said, frowning as she checked the screen in front of her. She shook her head. “No, there’s no patient here with that name.”

“Are you sure? He would’ve come in this morning, with a heart attack.”

“Maybe you’ve got the wrong hospital?”

That was a possibility, though Rowena had been pretty sure it had been that one. There was something strange there, but he kept those thoughts to himself until Agent Henriksen showed up.

“The Senator and his wife are on their way,” he told Castiel. “What the hell happened?”

Castiel related the whole story to him, omitting no detail. Henriksen took notes and agreed with Castiel that something didn’t quite fit in that story.

“I’m going to put an APB on the van,” he said, taking out his cellphone to do exactly that.

“Try finding as much as you can about Mr. Singer, as well.”

Henriksen narrowed his eyes at him, as if he was about to tell him to stop giving him orders on how to do his job. But at the point a black woman with curly hair showed up at the reception.

“I need to see Rowena MacLeod!” she said. “She’s my wife, they told me she was in some sort of accident?”

A doctor came to talk to her and lead her away towards a room. Castiel followed them, feeling slightly guilty. He had been so worried about Meg he hadn’t even bothered to find out about Doctor MacLeod’s state.

They had placed her in a common room and changed her into some hospital robes. She was awake and sat up on the bed when she saw the other woman come in.

“Billie!” she exclaimed, extending her hands towards her. Her wife walked up to her and hugged her tight.

“What happened, darling?” Billie asked. She dragged a chair closer to the bed so she could sit there and hold Rowena’s hand as she did.

“Some maniac crashed into us and… Castiel!”

Castiel was tempted to run away, but he couldn’t really do that now.

“How are you, Doctor MacLeod?”

“I’m fine. They’re just making sure the shock isn’t going to affect me. How’s Meg?”

Castiel clenched his fists so tight that his nails sank in the palm of his hands.

“They won’t… they won’t tell me much.”

Rowena gestured him to come in and introduced him to Billie as “Meg’s boyfriend”.

“You were driving?” Billie asked him, her dark eyes staring daggers into him. Castiel didn’t want to know what that woman would’ve done to him if Rowena had been in any way injured.

“It wasn’t his fault. It was going to crash us again and Castiel prevented it… what was that all about?” Rowena wondered.

Henriksen walked into the room at that precise moment and announced he needed to talk to Rowena.

“The Senator and his wife are here, you might want to talk to them,” Henriksen informed Castiel, a subtle way of asking him to leave the room.

Castiel swallowed. This was the encounter he was fearing the most.

Senator Masters was standing outside of Meg’s room, pacing up and down as if he couldn’t keep steady. Mrs. Masters, on her side, sat on a chair and fidgeted with some tissues on her hands.

“Captain Milton!” the senator greeted him as soon as he spotted him. He walked up to him and to Castiel’s surprise, he put a hand on his shoulder. “Agent Henriksen told me you tried to put a bullet on the bastard who did this to my daughter.”

“I wasn’t really trying to…” Castiel began explaining, but Senator Masters squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said. There was something dangerous in the glimmer of his strange golden eyes, something that startled Castiel. “You did exactly what you should’ve done.”

It was good that he thought so, because that meant Castiel wasn’t out of a job just yet. But he still felt incredibly guilty.

“I shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place,” Castiel said.

“You couldn’t have known,” Agent Henriksen said, appearing again behind them. “You were right. Robert Singer isn’t in the hospital; he didn’t have a heart attack. He isn’t even in Kansas. Him, his wife and stepdaughter are on a road trip out of state. I just talked to them and they seemed very confused at what I was suggesting.”

“And the phone call?”

“Doctor MacLeod was kind enough to let us analyze her phone to see if we can track it, but I bet my badge it’s going to be a dead end. This was meticulously planned.”

“So the threats were serious?” Mrs. Masters asked, startling them all.

She had approached them in silence and stared at them with eyes wide open. Castiel had seen her once or twice during Senator Masters speeches, dutifully standing behind the podium and looking impeccable in a pantsuit and without a single blonde hair out of place. She was far less put together now. Her hair was disheveled, as if she’d run her hands through it repeatedly and her make-up was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy, but it was almost like she was holding back her tears for some reason.

“I told you,” Senator Masters said. There was a slight tone of triumph in his voice, or so Castiel thought. It would’ve been extremely strange for him to be happy about his family’s life being in danger. He took a step forwards and put both his hands on Lilith’s shoulders. “I know both you and Meg are annoyed at the measures I took, but look what happened! If Captain Milton hadn’t been there…”

Lilith stared at him, her grey eyes wide and fearful. She nodded and let her husband embraced her to calm her down.

Castiel looked away. He felt like none of that was any of his business. And also, like the Senator was being too quick to sing his praises. He might not have been able to stop the van that crashed into them, but he could’ve prevented them from being on the street altogether. He should’ve asked about the call before they even left the parking lot. Was it common for trial patients to contact Rowena or Meg when they had some difficulty caused by their medication? Why hadn’t he thought there was anything suspicious about it? Had the intense talk and then the argument he’d had with Meg right before clouded his judgment?

Did what he felt for Meg prevent him from keeping her safe?

A brunette doctor exited the room to her left.

“Marjorie Masters’ family?” she inquired. Castiel took a step forwards to listen, but he stayed behind the Senator and his wife. “She’s coming to. She took a bad blow to the head, but she was otherwise unharmed. We can’t discard the possibility of a concussion, but otherwise, she is going to be just fine.”

Mrs. Masters let out a deep, shaky breath and started sobbing again. Senator Masters, on his side, took a step forwards and offered his hand to her…

“I am eternally grateful, doctor…?”

“Flagstaff.”

“Can we come in and see her?” Mrs. Masters asked.

“Of course. Right this way.”

Castiel was left standing on the hallway, along with Agent Henriksen.

“You’re not going to leave, Captain Milton?”

“Castiel,” he corrected him, without taking his eyes off the door where the Senator and his wife had disappeared. “And no. I would like to make sure Meg… Doctor Masters is alright.”

“You’re very dedicated to her,” Henriksen commented.

Castiel didn’t know how to answer to that question. He sat down on the same chair Mrs. Masters had been occupying until a moment before.

“Well, mind if I keep you company?” Henriksen offered. “I’m staying until Doctor Masters is ready to talk to me.”

“What could she possibly tell you that Doctor MacLeod hasn’t already?”

Henriksen shrugged.

“You never know. Coffee?”

They waited for around half an hour. In that time, Henrisken received new information that he was kind enough to share with Castiel. The call from Bobby Singer’s fake daughter had been made from a burner phone and the van had taken an escape route that avoided traffic cams.

“Whoever this son of a bitch is, he’s smart,” Henrisken said, finishing his second cup of coffee. “But I am smarter. I’ll find him.”

Castiel was relieved to see that the case was in competent hands. Then again, he was sure Senator Masters had ensured it was that way.

Henriksen intercepted Doctor Flagstaff as she walked out of the room for the third time.

“Is it okay if I speak with her?”

“Be my guest,” Doctor Flagstaff said. “She certainly is awake enough for it.”

There was irritation in her tone of voice and it soon became clear why. When Castiel and Henriksen walked into the room, they found Meg dressed up in her street clothes. There was an ugly bruise on the side of her face, but other than that, she seemed fine. She was putting on her shoes and arguing with her mother:

“I am not staying here. It’s not happening.”

“At least come home so we can keep an eye on you…”

“Oh, no.” Meg shook her head. “Definitely not.”

“Meg, don’t be stubborn…”

“Father dear, stubbornness is one of the best qualities I inherited from you,” Meg replied, calmly. “You’ve said it yourself.”

Henriksen cleared his throat loudly. All three of the Masters turned to look at him. Not fazed at all by the family discussion he’d walked into, he introduced himself to Meg with a handshake and asked her to sit down on the bed when she agreed to answer his questions.

“I need to know who would have access to your trial patients’ information.”

“Lots of people,” Meg replied. “Our hospital director, the other doctors who are collaborating with the research, the people at Needham.”

“Needham?”

“The pharmaceutical company that’s helping us develop the new drug,” Meg explained. “We keep them regularly updated.”

“I see.” Henriksen wrote something down on his notepad. “What about people closer to you? Do you take this information home with you?”

“I mean… yeah, but I live alone.”

“Doctor MacLeod is married, though.”

“Billie? No.” Meg chuckled, as if the mere idea was ridiculous. “She’s a mortician. Why the hell would she go through Rowena’s research?”

“You tell me,” Henriksen replied. “You and Doctor MacLeod spend a lot of time together, she probably gets home late. Maybe there’s a little jealousy going on there…”

“Woah!” Meg exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I would love to live in your head, agent, because it sounds very entertaining in there.”

“I thought this was because of _my_ enemies, agent,” Senator Masters intervened.

“That’s our main theory, but we can’t leave any stone unturned…”

“Well, maybe there are stones that you shouldn’t touch,” Senator Masters said. His voice had dropped an octave and Castiel was surprised at how menacing the glare he threw at Henriksen was.

The agent stared back, unintimidated.

“Maybe you should let me decide that.”

Senator Masters opened his mouth, but Doctor Flagstaff walked in before he could say anything.

“Here are the discharging forms,” she announced. She seemed extremely reluctant as she handed them over to Meg along with the pen. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay? We still don’t know if you have a concussion…”

“I know all about concussions, Flagstaff,” Meg said, as she confidently scribbled her signature on the forms in front of them and gave them back to the other doctor. “I think I can handle one in my own head.”

Doctor Flagstaff let out a deep, exasperated sigh.

“Doctors are the worst patients,” she muttered to herself as she left the room. Meg snickered to herself and moved towards the door. Castiel watched her closely, but her gait didn’t seem any more unstable than usual.

“Cas, come on. You’re driving me home.”

Castiel was left speechless for a moment. She couldn’t be serious, could she? She had just been in a terrible attack, she needed to stay where they could keep her under observation and care for her and…

One look at her face let him know that there was no point in trying to argue any of that. Meg knew and she didn’t care about the possible consequences of her walking out of there against her own colleague’s advice.

“Marjorie…” Senator Masters started.

“There are… some logistic issues with that,” Castiel said. Maybe appealing to her own safety wasn’t going to work, but he could still try and give her other reasons. “Our car was completely destroyed…”

“Call an Uber, then,” Meg said, shrugging. “I’m not picky.”

“Meg, you still should have someone watching over you,” Mrs. Masters insisted.

Meg rolled her eyes so hard that Castiel feared they would get stuck on the back of her head.

“Fine, mom. If you want, you can come stay with me in my apartment and sleep on my couch.”

It was amazing how quickly that argument seemed to change Mrs. Masters’ mind.

“Your couch is an ergonomic nightmare. Just come home…”

“I’m not giving poor Duma more work!” Meg protested. “I’m going home. To my own home. The one I pay for. With my money.”

And after that aggressive declaration of independence, she stepped out of the room. Castiel turned to follow her when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

“Captain Milton, please keep an eye on her,” Senator Masters said, grabbing his hand as if to shake it again. “For her own sake.”

When he let go, Castiel realized the senator had slipped something into his mind. When he looked at it, he realized it was a wrinkled hundred-dollar bill.

He didn’t know exactly why, but the gesture was so arrogant, so entitled. As if he thought the only way to get someone to care for Meg was to pay them.

“Of course, senator,” Castiel said.

He turned around and ostensibly let the bill fall at his feet as he hurriedly followed Meg down the hallway.

“What’s Rowena’s room?” she asked, without even looking at Castiel. So she’d basically stormed out without a clear idea of where she was going to go next. That seemed very typical of her.

Castiel pointed the way. Rowena was also already dressed up and her wife was helping her put on her shoes. Maybe Flagstaff was right about what kind of patients doctors made.

“Darling, are you okay?” Rowena asked when Meg walked into the room.

“I could ask you the same thing. Hello, Billie.”

Billie greeted her with a gesture and then helped Rowena stand up.

“Doctors said she’s good to go,” Billie informed them. “Did they discharge you too?”

“Something like that. Want to share a ride?”

Rowena shot her a suspicious look, but she didn’t protest. So five minutes later they were all standing outside of the hospital’s door, waiting for their car to pick them up. Meg kept glancing at the door and bouncing on her feet, impatiently, like she thought her parents were going to come out and force her to go home with them after all.

They didn’t. Castiel wondered if the Senator was mad at him after he’d rejected his generous “tip”.

Rowena, Meg and Billie rode in the backseat.

“So what the hell was that about?”

“I should have told you before,” Meg said.

She confessed about the threats and how her father had been worried about them. Castiel noticed that, suspiciously absent from that confession was the clarification that he wasn’t Meg’s boyfriend, but he simply smiled at the Uber driver reassuringly after he seemed suddenly worried that someone was going to crash into them now.

“Wait, so you have some maniac threatening your life and you couldn’t bring it up?” Billie asked. She sounded slightly irritated.

“Technically they were threatening my dad,” Meg pointed out. “And I didn’t think they were serious. Just that my dad was being paranoid.”

“Darling…” Rowena sighed.

“I know, I know.” Meg growled. “Not my brightest moment. I’m gonna take a couple of days and then we can go back to our research.”

Both Rowena and Billie stared at her like she was completely insane. Even Castiel had to look over her shoulder. Was she serious?

“What? I’m not gonna let some rando who doesn’t even have a problem with me, personally, fuck up my work,” she declared.

“Meg, we know you’re very brave and all…”

“Also very stupid,” Billie added.

“But perhaps we should take a break, in lieu of the circumstances?” Rowena ended, diplomatically.

They’d arrived at their building. Meg was looking at her partner with a horrified expression, as if she simply couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“We’ll talk about it later,” said Rowena, opening the door. “Go and rest, darling.”

Meg snorted, as if she had no idea how to do that, exactly.

“Fine. See you.”

She was silent on the ride back to her home and she didn’t even protest when Castiel helped her out and guided her to the door. Benny stared at them with surprise.

“Doctor Masters! You’re home early.”

“Yeah, we’ve got… we had some issues…” Meg’s words slurred and she walked slower than ever, as if every step she took was a small battle against gravity.

He quickly grabbed her by the arm and she didn’t even protest when he guided her to the elevator without letting go of her.

“I think I do have a concussion,” she muttered, leaning her weight against Castiel’s.

“Figures,” Castiel said. “It’s fine. I’ll stay to keep an eye on you.”

“Did my dad pay you to do that?”

It shouldn’t surprise Castiel that she knew her father well enough to know that had been the case.

“He tried to. I turned it down.”

“Dumbass,” Meg said. “You should always take the money.”

She was apparently to dizzy or sleepy to say anything else, because she simply hid her head on Castiel’s shoulder and remained immobile until they reached her floor. Castiel felt a little apprehensive about touching her too much, but he didn’t really have a choice. He lassoed his arm around her waist and guided her towards her door.

April weighted about the same as her.

“Meg, I’m going to need to put my hand in your back pocket.”

“Mmmh… I knew you were a kinky one,” she muttered with a life.

Castiel didn’t explain to her that it had more to do with picking up the keys than with coping a feel of her ass. They stumbled inside of the apartment and Castiel helped her lay down on the couch.

April always insisted that she was fine and she didn’t need Castiel’s help.

“I’ll bring you a blanket,” he decided.

“You do that. It’s fine, though. Just let me sleep it off…”

She sighed happily and remained completely immobile. Castiel made sure she was breathing and then got into action: he went to the room and grabbed a pillow and a blanket. She lifted Meg’s head up and then placed the blanket over her before he moved to remove her shoes so she’d be more comfortable.

How many times had he done this or something like this for April? When they called him from the bar to pick her up because they had taken her keys after one too many drinks and…?

He shook his head. There was no point in remembering those days. He needed to be present now, for Meg.

There were several missed calls in both of their cellphones, which Agent Henriksen had been kind enough to give back to them. (The Glock, however, was now part of the investigation, he’d explained with an apologetic look). Castiel didn’t know how to unlock Meg’s phone, so he checked his first.

“Cas, what the hell?” Anna said when he called her back. “They’re saying Senator Masters’ daughter was in some sort of freak accident? Where are you?”

“I’m at her home. She’s fine. We’re both fine.”

He watched Meg closely as she groaned and snuggled further under the blanket. Was he speaking too loudly? He moved away towards the bathroom so he wouldn’t wake her up.

“What happened?” Anna asked.

Castiel considered telling her the truth. He would have to clarify that he was speaking off the record, though, because as much as his sister loved him and cared for him, she was still a journalist. She wouldn’t resist a story as spicy as this one and Castiel had already betrayed Meg. He felt terrible and he wasn’t going to do it again.

“It is as they say. It was a car accident.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think I would be sure of what happened, yes,” Castiel said, and quickly changed the subject. “I’m going to stay with her for the night. Would you be so kind to drop by and leave me an overnight bag?”

“What?”

“She needs someone to watch over her.”

“And no one in her family can do it?”

“Anna, just… please?”

There was a silent at the other end of the line before Anna sighed.

“Okay, fine. Text me the address. I’ll go after I leave work.”

After he ended the call, he went back to the living room, not entirely certain what to do. Despite feeling like it had been an entire week since he’d been talking to Meg that morning in the car, about mixed signals and time to figure things out, it was still the afternoon of the same day. In a normal Monday, at this hour, he would’ve been driving Meg back to the hospital after lunch at her favorite deli.

He took off his jacket and his tie and hung them from the back of a chair. Meg only had two, which signaled that she only expected two people to be at her apartment at any time. He’d noticed before how the decorations were a little impersonal: there were no frames hanging from the wall, the curtains and the carpet were of a simple dark beige. It was orderly, but cold. Castiel hadn’t thought much of it, though, because he wasn’t one to judge someone by their choices in home decoration.

He judged them by what they had in their kitchen and Meg’s wasn’t exactly well-stocked. There were lots of instant soups and noodles, instant coffee, no flour, no vegetables and the only fruit he found were some bananas that had long since gone black. In the back of the cabinets, he found a piece of moldy bread that he proceeded to throw away immediately.

The kitchen told him nothing new about Meg: she was a busy woman, she barely stopped at home and when she did, she likely didn’t have the energy or the expertise to cook herself something actually nutritious and fulfilling. That would have to change. After a quick search on his phone, he found out that it was recommended for people with post-concussion syndrome to eat well and drink a lot of water.

So he decided to take matters into his own hands. He couldn’t make Meg’s fatigue and dizziness go away, but he could cook something good for her.

Benny was kind enough to tip the delivery guy for the groceries he ordered on his phone and take it up to the apartment. Meg, who had been so immobile Castiel felt compelled to check a couple of times if she was still breathing, moved a little under her blanket when she heard the bell ringing.

“Who’s that?” she muttered drowsily.

“Thank you, Benny.”

“Is Doctor Masters okay?”

Castiel explained about the accident (which Benny had read about on his phone) and the concussion and thanked him again before closing the door behind her.

Meg was sitting on the couch, her hair a tangled mess. Her make-up, that had survived the crash and the ride to the hospital, had finally smudged around her eyes, giving her a strange raccoon-like appearance. She was positively adorable.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’m going to make you dinner,” Castiel announced, showing her the bags. “Why don’t you go put on something more comfortable?”

“Woah, save that for after the dinner date, pal,” she muttered.

It was good to know that at least her flirty sense of humor was still intact. She stood up on unsteady steps and Castiel watched her closely, wondering if he would have to drop everything and run to catch her. The last thing she needed was to hit her head again. But she made it into her room without incident, so Castiel rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

For someone who cooked so little, she was very well-equipped with pots of different sizes and baking trays. He hadn’t chosen ingredients for anything fancy, just some chicken and vegetables that would go well enough with a mushroom sauce.

This was what he enjoyed doing the most. Cooking, making someone’s favorite meal, was the best way to show someone that they were cared for, that they were loved. And after the terrible day they’d had, he definitely wanted Meg to know that he was there for her, no matter what.

“That smells good,” she said, sitting in front of the isle. She had changed into her yoga pants and a loose shirt, tied her hair in a messy pony tail and removed the rest of her make-up. She looked a little pale and more tired than usual without it, but she had just survived an attempt on her life.

“That’s because it’s actual food,” Castiel said, as he added some pepper to the sauce. He took of the lid of the other pot he had over the stove and served up the soup he’d made with the chicken bones in a bowl that he then placed in front of Meg. “You can have this until the rest is ready.”

“You know chicken soup is for when people have the flu, right?” she asked. She was probably going to ask something else, but she placed the spoon inside of her mouth and her eyes opened wide. “Oh. Oh, God.”

She took another spoonful, making a humming sound of approval that put a smile on Castiel’s lips. That was what he was aiming for.

“Save space for the rest,” he said, as he served up the chicken and vegetables and soaked it all generously with the sauce.

Meg eyed with suspicion, but after she took one bite, her face was one of equal parts surprise and delight.

“Are you kidding me right now?” she muttered. “What the hell? Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“I used to have my own restaurant.”

Castiel said it without thinking, without realizing. Thoughts of April had already flashed through his mind all afternoon; he couldn’t believe that he was talking about the restaurant now.

But Meg seemed genuinely interested.

“Really?”

“After I was discharged, yes,” Castiel said. “I… eventually had to sell it.”

That was the truth, but there were a lot of things behind that he didn’t want to say, that were too painful to remember. Luckily for him, Meg only seemed interested in eating some more and teasing him.

“You’re full of surprises, Captain Milton.”

Castiel chuckled. He didn’t know why, but it didn’t bother her when she called him that. She didn’t do it as a form to show him fake respect or to establish a formal distance with him. Coming from her, it almost sounded endearing.

The harsh ringing of the intercom interrupted their conversation.

“What’s that?” Meg asked. She seemed alarmed.

“I… I asked my sister to… bring me some things,” Castiel said. His neck burnt. “So I can stay and watch over you tonight. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

Meg stared at him for so long that the intercom rang again. Castiel was certain that the next step Anna would take would be calling him on his cellphone and he really hoped he had an answer for her then.

“Are you going to be a gentleman and make breakfast for me in the morning?” Meg asked him.

“Of course.”

Despite how tired she looked, her smile still managed to light up everything around her.

“Then I guess you can stay.”


	8. Chapter 8

Meg had what had to be… well, not the most surreal week of her life, considering some of the things she’d done when she hung out with Ruby on daily basis. But it was up there.

She didn’t actually do much, except sleep a lot and try not to faint when she took more than a couple of steps at a time. The weirdest thing was what she didn’t do, and that was kick out Castiel of her apartment after the first few days.

“Don’t you want to go home?” Meg asked him when she was conscious. “Aren’t you tired of sleeping in my ergonomically inappropriate couch?”

“Your couch is actually more comfortable than my sister’s,” Castiel said, shrugging. “And of course, I will leave. As soon as you promise me you will call Rowena or your brother or someone to come watch over you.”

Meg grimaced and refused to answer to the bastard. Tom was already back in California for his job and Rowena was probably still at least a little bit mad at her for not telling her about the threats. And as for her mother, Meg would’ve sooner lock herself in a mental asylum than let her take care of her.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t be better at your childhood home, with your family?” Castiel asked her when Meg expressed those feelings in no uncertain terms.

Actually, she knew if she went home to let anyone “take care of her”, it would be Duma doing all the work. Her mother would drop by her room once a day to ask how she was and then lament that she couldn’t stay to watch over her. She had appointments with other Senators’ wives and committees’ organizers and donors. Meg understood. Lilith, as a good wife, always supported Azazel’s political career.

“I don’t know why,” she told him. “They hate each other.”

She was surprised she’d said that out loud. It was a well-known fact among her family, but she’d never been as clear about it with anyone outside of it. Except maybe Sam, and even then, she hadn’t used words as strong as those.

She blamed the concussion.

Castiel also seemed a little astonished about that.

“If they hate each other, why are they still married?”

“Beats me.” Meg shrugged. “My guess is that it would be humiliating for my dad to divorce my mom after he’s advocated for family values and whatnot all of his damn career.”

Castiel turned around and put a plate of scrambled eggs and some toasts in front of her, along with a mug of steaming tea.

“So you’re saying there’s a certain level of hypocrisy that goes on in a political career.”

“Does this surprise you in any way whatsoever?” Meg asked, rolling her eyes.

“Not really,” he admitted. “My father was a preacher.”

She had to laugh at that. When she’d first met him she’d thought he didn’t have a sense of humor. She had slowly discovered that he did have one, indeed, it was just that it was a dry one.

She attacked the eggs with a fork and had to pause when she put them in her mouth. They were the perfect combination of soft and flavorful, with just a hint of peppermint to make them interesting. She moaned with pleasure as she chewed. This was the real reason that she couldn’t find it in herself to kick Castiel out. The man’s cooking was just glorious. He could even make something as simple as eggs taste like fucking Heaven.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “This is amazing.”

Castiel usually didn’t emote a lot, but she’d noticed that he would smirk a little, very pleased with himself, every time she praised her cook. It was cute. So Meg just kept on doing it.

And he made sure to cook so often that Meg wasn’t sure this wasn’t a ploy to get her to gain weight. He made her breakfast, lunch and dinner or, if she woke up in the middle of the afternoon, some snacks that were definitely going to ruin her for the plastic sandwiches she usually had at the deli.

“I don’t understand how you had to close the restaurant when you cook like this!” she exclaimed after an especially wonderful dinner that had consisted on a medium rare steak with baked potatoes so golden they seemed to glisten under the kitchen’s light.

Castiel’s face became a little somber at the mention.

“I… I’m not sure what happened either,” he admitted. “The last couple of years have been strange ones for me.”

Meg looked at him with interest. When Castiel talked about his past, he usually referred more to the distant past: his family, the town he’d grown up in, details from his childhood. He never talked about his stint in the Air Force or what came afterwards, but Meg knew, because he had mentioned it the first time they’d met, that he had been married at some point and that he wasn’t anymore.

“What do you mean?” she asked him, tilting her head.

“I… I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Well, that’s not fair. I told you all about my breakup with Sam. I think you owe me a secret.”

Castiel lowered his eyes at that mention.

“I… never did apologize for breaking your trust.”

Meg chewed the inside of her cheek. They were having a nice dinner conversation and there she had to go and ruin it by bringing up the reason they’d been fighting right before the whole car-crashing debacle.

“It doesn’t matter, Cas,” she said, softly. “I understand why you did it. I still don’t think the Winchesters had anything to do with it…”

She stopped. Goddammit, she’d just now remembered that she hadn’t called Sam back. Had he heard about the attack? Castiel had mentioned that it had been on the news, and that his sister wanted to interview her.

Meg had been asleep the first two times Anna showed up at the apartment with a clean change of clothes for Castiel. But she was awake the third time.

“I’m not washing any of these,” she informed Castiel. “I’m just piling them up in a corner of the bathroom. If you want them clean, you’re going to have to come home and do the laundry yourself.”

“Yes, I understand this,” Castiel said. His tone was amused.

Meg was sitting on the couch with a mug of tea, trying to very discreetly lean forwards so she could maybe catch a glimpse of Castiel’s sister. She didn’t know exactly why, except that her thirst of knowledge regarding everything that had to do with him was endless. And hey, it was fair: he’d met Tom and Ruby. Meg felt that made her entitled to at least know how one of the several brothers and sisters he said he had looked like.

What she didn’t expect was the fact that Anna had been itching to meet her as well, so as soon as she came into her line of vision, she was in Anna’s as well.

She was thin and almost as tall as Castiel, with dark red hair and a pointy chin. Her dark eyes grew wider upon falling on Meg.

“Hello!” she said, a candid smile growing in her face. “Gosh, sorry! I hope we didn’t wake you!”

“Oh… no, I wasn’t… I wasn’t sleeping,” Meg said.

Anna walked past her brother and directly into the apartment, as if someone had extended an invitation for her to do that.

“How are you feeling?” she asked Meg, sitting down on the armchair next to the couch.

“Anna…” Castiel started protesting.

“I’m better, thank you,” Meg said, a little disconcerted. If Castiel had been shy and discreet, Anna was anything but. She started asking questions almost immediately.

“The accident must have been so scary! I know physically you just got a concussion, but emotionally, how are you dealing? They’re saying the van that crashed you fled the scene. Do you have any news about that? Is your family going to pursue legal actions?”

“Anna!” Castiel repeated a little louder.

Anna grimaced, but she didn’t seem guilty at all for having subjected Meg to an interrogatory.

“Sorry, I’m just… you know, trying to gather all the information,” she said, innocently.

“I know this is a great story and I know it’s killing you that you have access to a direct source and you can’t use it,” Castiel said, approaching her. “But I am still Doctor Masters’ bodyguard, and I will drag you out if I have to.”

“Oh, please.” Anna rolled her eyes. “You’re not a bodyguard, you’re a wet nurse.”

Meg couldn’t have explained why, but there was something infinitely funny about the way Anna said that. She laughed before she could help herself.

“What? She’s right!” she said when Castiel glared at her. “And in any case, when I don’t need a bodyguard anymore, maybe I’ll hire you to be my private chef.”

“Oh, he would like that,” Anna said, with a chuckle.

“That’s more than enough. Doctor Masters needs to rest,” Castiel said, sternly, and grab his sister by the arm as if he was ready to make good on his threat of dragging her out.

“Alright, alright. You’re no fun,” Anna protested. However, before she went, she fished something out from her purse and handed it to Meg: a small card. “If you ever feel like talking about the car crash or about… whatever, just call me!”

“You’re hoping I’ll give you dirt on my father’s campaign?” Meg asked. She was only half-joking, but Anna took it seriously.

“If you want,” she said, with a little shrug. She left before Castiel had time to protest some more about her presence there.

He closed the door behind her and raised his hands defensively.

“I deeply apologize for her.”

“You don’t have to,” Meg assured him, and she meant it. She’d liked Anna. She seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t be intimidated about standing up to anyone, not even famous Senator Azazel Masters.

Of course, she was feeling sleepy again before she could express those feelings. Castiel realized, delicately grabbed the mug from her hand and help her move from the couch to the bed so she would be more comfortable.

They developed a system for that. Castiel would put a hand around her waist and Meg would walk as much as she could before the walls started combing and closing around her, at which point, she would lean her entire weight against Castiel. It surprised her that he had no problem moving her from then on. One time her legs gave out and Meg was vaguely conscious that Castiel had picked her up bridal style and gently placed her on the bed.

And he smelled nice, damn, he always smelled so nice. Was he using her shower and shaving in her bathroom while she slept? He must have been. Of course, she didn’t ask him about it. It would be too embarrassing.

But he was an excellent nurse all around, not just making sure she ate properly, but also asking her over and over if her head ached, if the light was bothering her, if she felt dizzy or nauseous. Meg had to wonder if he’d read about the symptoms somewhere or if he’d asked Rowena about them.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I won’t be in the shower more than five minutes and if I start feeling weird, I’ll call you.”

Castiel still looked troubled about it.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not up for it…”

“Listen, I feel terrible and filthy and I’m not going to ask you to give me a sponge bath,” she stated, point blank. “Also, I have a shower chair, so I won’t fall down, I promise.”

Castiel frowned, as if he had never heard about a shower chair before in his life. Meg avoided his eye. She knew he must have seen her cane in the room and the medicines and needles in his cabinet, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about it. She was thankful for it, but perhaps, since he was taking care of her, she needed to tell him about what Rowena called “her issue”.

She thought about it while the hot stream of water battered over her head. She had maybe a few minutes to think about this clearly before her mind got all foggy again. She knew her brain was healing and she couldn’t be asked to make decisions like this right now, she needed to take it easy.

But he’d caught her before she fell enough times for him to have noticed, right?

She closed the water and wrapped herself in a towel before she cracked open the door.

Castiel was talking to someone on the phone.

“No, I don’t believe it’s a good idea for you to talk to her right now,” he said, his voice low as if he didn’t want her to hear him. “She is healing and she needs to be calm. Yes, of course. Yes, I will tell her. Thank you…”

Meg heard nothing more as she walked past into the bedroom. She put on a clean pair of yoga pants and another oversized shirt, but then the fog started on her brain again and she forgot.

That happened a lot to her. She wanted to watch TV or read or do anything to fend off the boredom during her waking intervals, but the light did make her headache worse and she couldn’t focus her eyes too much anywhere.

Castiel, of course, tried his best to ease those times for her. He sat on the couch with her or on her computer chair in her room when she couldn’t be bothered to get up from her bed. He read the news to her, talked to her about the inanest things and was an all-around angel during the two or three hours a day when Meg was awake.

“I’m gonna have to start calling you Clarence,” she said.

“Why is that?”

“Because of the… you know, the angel. From the movie.”

She couldn’t remember which movie it was, except that she watched it a lot around Christmas growing up.

“Tom and I always stayed up late and watched a lot of TV behind our nannies back. Mom and dad were always on some dinner party or the other at that time,” she told Castiel. She grimaced at herself before she took another sip from her tea. She lost count of how many mugs of the stuff she’d drunk during those days. “Listen to me. You’re probably thinking _‘oh, poor rich girl, daddy didn’t hug her enough…_’”

“I don’t… I don’t really understand that line of thinking,” Castiel said. “If you felt like something was wrong with your childhood, you’re allowed to express that. One’s economic circumstances are irrelevant when it comes to emotional neglect.”

Meg blinked at him. Was he really saying that or was she hallucinating it because of the concussion?

Because he couldn’t be this perfect. He couldn’t be this kind to her just because.

“Are you a psychologist or something? How many things are you?”

“I’ve read a lot of self-help books,” Castiel said, with a sad smile. “My father, he… he didn’t really believe in psychology. He thought that God would guide us through whatever difficulties we had.”

He made a pause and tapped his finger against the edge of his cup. Meg could smell the coffee from where she was sitting in front of him. He’d drunk a lot from that stuff and that made her wonder if he was trying to stay awake even when she was sleeping ten times a day.

“He didn’t approve of me making the decision to end my marriage,” he concluded. “He was a firm believer of what God hath joined together and all that.”

Meg fought to stay awake and register this information. It felt extremely important.

“So _you_ decided to end it?”

He nodded. His blue eyes seem suddenly darker.

“Not many people approved. They said I was being selfish and…”

His voice trailed off. Meg tilted her head at him.

“And why is that?”

“Is your tea cold?”

That happened a lot. Every time they approached the subject of the dissolution of his marriage, Castiel recoiled or abruptly changed the subject. Meg didn’t want to prod him. She felt like she didn’t have the mental capacity right now to ask him anything in a subtle, non-hurtful way.

And of course, she had the sensation that she was forgetting something all of the time. She couldn’t put her finger on it. A question she needed to ask or something she needed to tell him. The words escaped her every time and Castiel, bless him, was so careful and patient with her while she slipped in and out of consciousness during the whole week.

She woke up a little agitated that Friday night. It was still late at night, because her room was in shadows and at first, she couldn’t tell what had woken her up. It took her a moment to notice the hand sliding up and down her back, underneath her shirt. Strong knuckles gently kneading her skin, making her shudder with every touch.

“What…?” she mumbled half asleep.

She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder. Castiel was next to her on the bed. How the hell had he managed to slide under the sheets with such care that he hadn’t woken her? His face seemed focus on what his hands were doing on his back, but when he noticed her staring, his eyes met with hers.

Meg’s breath got caught in her throat. His pupils were dilated so wide that there was barely any blue in them.

“Castiel?” she asked, all of her senses alert now. “What…?”

“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied calmly. “It’ll help with your back pain.”

He slid another hand under her shirt and continued pressing different spots in her back, using his fingers this time. Meg couldn’t help the soft moan that escape her lips when he moved his hands up and pressed her shoulders with his thumbs, gentle circular caresses that were slowly rendering her a limp mess.

“This is… this is…” she tried to protest, but then he took it one step further. He leaned over and left a kiss on the crook of her neck. His hot breath and short stubble tingled her skin and Meg’s entire body shook. “What are you doing?” she gasped.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

His strong arms were now around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She had no idea how she’d missed out on the fact that he was naked. His skin burned like he had a fever and his muscles felt as firm and strong as Meg had imagined.

“We shouldn’t…” she whispered, but he shushed her and moved his hand up, grabbing unto her breast. He squeezed it softly and another moan escaped Meg’s lips. “Cas, we… we can’t…”

Castiel left a peck on the edge of her lips and pushed himself up to look at her in the eye.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.”

Meg stared at him and she couldn’t deny it anymore. How good this felt, how much she’d dreamed about it, how much she needed it…

She rolled over so she was face to face with him now and placed a hand no his cheek.

“Don’t stop.”

The smile on his face was playful as he moved to kiss her again. It was just as forceful, just as insistent and full of desire as the last time. His fingers tangled in her hair again, pulling softly, and Meg opened her lips so he could kiss her deeply, sliding her hand down his chest, reaching for his…

“Meg,” he moaned in her ear. “Meg. Meg!”

Meg opened her eyes, startled at the light pouring in through the window. She lifted her head to find the other side of her bed not just empty, but also perfectly made.

“Meg?”

Castiel was standing on the door. Meg was about to ask him why he’d left her all hot and bothered and how the hell had he put on his clothes back on so fast… and then she realized exactly what’d happened.

“Are you okay?” he asked, frowning. “You were making some… weird noises. I thought you might be having a nightmare.”

“Uh… no… not a nightmare.” Meg forced herself to sit up on the bed and rub her eyes. “Just a… a weird dream.”

Castiel nodded, as if that was all the explanation he needed. Thankfully, he didn’t ask what she was dreaming of.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. He took a step closer to her. “Your face is red. Do you feel like you have a fever…?”

“No!” Meg shouted. Castiel startled, but at least he stopped walking towards her. Meg pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. “No. I don’t have a fever. Just, uh… too many covers.”

“Okay,” he mumbled. He obviously wasn’t convinced by that explanation at all, but he didn’t insist. “Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

“Aren’t you tired of cooking for me?”

“I never get tired of cooking for you.”

It felt like he was saying something else. Like he was saying that he wasn’t tired of taking care of her yet.

“Yeah, breakfast. Sounds good. Just give me a minute.”

Castiel smiled at her, reassuringly, and left the room. Meg waited until her heart stopped beating so fast and reached for her cellphone. It was early in the morning and for once, she’d woken up without a headache. She was tempted to stay in bed and finish what her subconscious had started, but with Castiel literally on the other room, well… she wasn’t embarrassed, exactly. She was afraid that she was going to call his name in a heated moment.

God, she was a mess.

Ten minutes later, she sat on the stool next to the isle of her kitchen, watching the back of his head. The dream had left her shaken, but she realized she’d had it for a reason. With everything that’d happened, she hadn’t had time to even think about her feelings for him.

Because she _had_ feelings for him. There was no point in denying that any longer. And there was no point in denying that she wanted to be with him and she knew that he was open to it. Why was she holding back?

And right then, it was as if her brain fog had lifted and she realized what she needed to tell him.

“Clarence.” She closed her eyes and tried again. “Cas.”

“Yes?” he asked, but he didn’t turn around.

Meg could have used that moment as an excuse to change the subject, ask him something unimportant or just back down altogether.

But she couldn’t.

“Can you look at me? I have… I have something important to tell you.”

Castiel froze, the whisk he was using to scramble some eggs still in his hand. Meg noticed the way his back tensed, as if he feared that she was going to tell him something terrible. But he put the utensil down and turned towards her with the same calm demeanor as always.

“What is it, Meg?”

She shivered at the way her name sounded in his mouth.

“I… I have been keeping something from you. Something you should know.”

Castiel frowned and opened his mouth, but Meg raised a finger to stop him from talking. She needed to say this now, before she lost her courage.

“There’s… another reason I decided not to go to my parents’ home. And it’s because I can’t take their pity.” She stopped and took a deep breath. Castiel didn’t try to interrupt her this time, so felt confident she had all the time in the world to say it. But she needed to just get it out there. “Four years ago, I got diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. That’s why I’m dizzy all the time. And why my back hurts. And why I keep falling over.”

Castiel’s expression was unreadable at first. Like he understood what she was trying to tell him, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to react. He stood quite immobile, his fingers fidgeting with the kitchen cloth.

“Oh,” he muttered, and then, a little louder. “Oh. The… the medicines. And the cane in your room.”

Meg flinched. Of course he had noticed, but he’d just been too polite to bring it up.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to use that to move around. My legs don’t always do what I tell them to. And it’s possible that with time I might need crutches or even a wheelchair.”

“I… I see,” Castiel muttered. He put the cloth down and moved closer to the kitchen isle. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he confessed in the end. “I’m sor…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Meg interrupted him quickly. “That is literally the worst thing you could say to me. This is not… it’s not a great tragedy or a shameful secret or anything. The reason I don’t use the cane and I don’t tell people is because I don’t want to hear how sorry they are for me. Which is all that I’ve heard from my family since I’ve told them.”

Castiel blinked at her. He still seemed a little astonished, but he was quickly recovering from the shock.

“Four years ago,” he repeated. “That’s… right before you broke up with Sam.”

“Oh, so you noticed,” Meg said.

She tried to make it sound humorous, but Castiel didn’t laugh. He seemed to be trying to figure out why she’d broke up with her boyfriend right around the time she seemed to have needed him the most.

“Did he…?”

“He was great about this,” Meg said. “I don’t know in how many ways I can say this. Sam is a great guy who would never get up to anything shady. In fact, I broke up with him because he was a little _too_ great about it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Meg took a deep breath. Even now, it was hard to explain it, but she supposed that she had to try.

“Sam had been considering a run for congress for some time. He was right in the middle of getting ready for it: putting together a team, preparing speeches, compiling lists of possible donors. We’d talked about moving to Washington if he won and I was ready for all of that. I was ready to be a politician’s wife, just like my mother.”

She laughed bitterly at the thought of it. After all the criticism she had lobbied at her parent’s marriage, it was almost ironic that she had been ready to follow the same path without a second thought.

Castiel kept looking at her silently, waiting for her to finish.

“And then I got diagnosed and he sort… put all of that on hold. Like, from one day to another, he halted everything he was doing and started coming home early and canceling events and appearances. The primary was coming and he was doing so well in the polls. I told him ‘_Sam, you need to be working harder than ever just now’_. And he said…” She stopped and sighed. “He said, ‘_Well, maybe next time’_.”

Castiel furrowed his brow.

“He was no longer running?”

“I asked him that point blank and he said he needed to be home with me right now.” Meg shook her head. “And don’t get me wrong, getting my diagnosis was huge. Suddenly all of the things that had been wrong with me for a while made sense. And yes, I needed time to adapt, but I also didn’t want Sam to put his career on hold for me.”

“Because you thought he’d come to resent you,” Castiel guessed.

Meg was glad she wasn’t the one who had to say it. It still didn’t make it any easier to hear it said out loud. Dammit, how come he always had a way to read her mind even when she didn’t want him to?

“I _know_ he’d come to resent me,” she corrected him. “Sam was always a dreamer; he’d always wanted to change the world. I told him over and over that I was fine, that I was going to be fine, that he didn’t need to sacrifice all of that for me. But he wouldn’t listen. So… I made him listen.” She bit the inside of her cheek and looked up at Castiel. “And he went on to win the primary, and then the seat.”

Castiel leaned against the isle, his frown even deeper than before. Meg watched him in silence while he mulled over everything she’d told him.

“I don’t understand,” he repeated in the end. “He could have done all of that with you by his side.”

Meg barked out a bitter laugh.

“Yeah. I wish he’d believed that.” She swallowed. She didn’t know why she had a lump on her throat, but dammit, she was not going to cry. Not right now. She still needed to say something else to Castiel. “So… you see the reason I haven’t jumped into your arms is not just that I haven’t got over Sam…”

“Meg.” Castiel put his hand up as if to physically stop her. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“It’s that I’m not going to get better,” she continued. “Ever. I’m not going to heal from this, and depending on a bunch of things that are out of my control, I might even get worse. My body is going to keep changing and not just that. MS comes with mood swings, fatigue, it might affect my sex drive, my thinking. I already have some really bad insomnia because of it. I have slept more this week than I have in years, so hell, I’m thinking about giving myself another concussion just so I can rest.”

She was trying to lighten the mood, because this conversation had suddenly turned heavier than she expected. Castiel didn’t laugh, however. He just kept looking at her with those enormous eyes of his. If he was overwhelmed by what she was telling him or not, she couldn’t read it in his face. She took a deep breath and went on:

“This is… just my new reality. It’s part of who I am. I’ve had a while to get used to it, and like I said, I’m not sad or angry over it. It hasn’t changed who I am, and I can’t take people pitying me for it. It infuriates me.”

Castiel nodded. He was still waiting for her to make her point. Meg figured she had been rambling on for a while.

“But being with me, means being with all of that. And I don’t want a nurse or a babysitter.”

“Which is what Sam tried to be,” Castiel pointed out. Meg closed her eyes. She still felt like she was on the verge of tears, that’s why it took her a while to answer when he asked: “So what do you want, Meg?”

“I want…” She swallowed some more, because she didn’t want her voice to sound broken while she spoke. “I don’t really know what I want.”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped a little. His expression didn’t change, but Meg thought he looked a little downcast, like he’d expected something completely different to come from this conversation.

And Meg realized immediately that she’d said the wrong thing. She hadn’t lied, exactly, but that wasn’t the truth. She knew what she wanted: she wanted the way Sam treated her before the diagnose, she wanted a friend and a partner and a lover. Someone who still saw her as “Meg” and not as “Someone to take care of”. But then, could Castiel be that? After everything he’d done this week, after he’d been hired specifically to take care of her, could he see her as something other than that?

She didn’t have time to find the words to express that before Castiel spoke again:

“Well… then I’ll just be here while you figure that out,” he said. “And you’ll let me know.”

Meg stared at him. He couldn’t be real. He couldn’t just consistently say the right thing when she needed to hear it.

He stretched his hand over the isle and placed it on her arm.

“And… thank you for telling me this,” he added. “Thank you for trusting me again. I know it wasn’t easy for you.”

“I… well… don’t mention it.”

He turned around to go back to breakfast preparation. Or maybe to give her time to wipe her tears with the closest paper napkin.

“Do you want anything with your eggs?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some of that… green leafy thing you put on it last time?”

“Oregano?”

“That’s the bitch.” Meg snapped her fingers, triumphant, and Castiel chuckled.

And just like that, that conversation was over and done with. It had been… easier than Meg was expecting. But also much harder.

She didn’t regret it for a second, though. Castiel acted as if nothing had changed and that was exactly what she needed him to do. He made sure she took her meds and continued cooking and talking with her, but he didn’t smother her and didn’t ask any further questions.

Meg slept a lot less that Saturday and she managed to stay awake most of Sunday, which to her was enough evidence to say that she all better.

“I’m gonna take it easy next week, don’t worry,” she said when Castiel expressed doubt in her optimistic self-diagnosis. “Not going to work. Not going anywhere, in fact. But if I do need to go out, you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”

There was still skepticism in his gaze, but he nodded.

“Very well, then.”

“You can go home if you want to.”

“I don’t want to,” he replied, with a brutal honesty that left Meg astonished. “But I’m sure you’re going to kick me out if I don’t. And Anna is going to complain a lot if she has to keep bringing me clean clothes.”

That last day, Castiel made it all about making sure Meg was ready to be by herself.

“I’m leaving you some food that you can microwave if you feel hungry and also some sandwiches if you don’t feel like microwaving anything,” he said, because apparently making sure she didn’t starve was his main concern.

No, of course not, Meg realized. He’d talked about how much food meant to him and to his family. This was his way to show that he cared.

“Thank you,” she said.

“And I’m going to be calling you every morning and evening to check up on you,” Castiel added. “I’ll call Benny to come up and knock on your door immediately if you don’t answer.”

“So you’re pals with him now?” Meg said, with a huff.

“He has been very helpful this past week, yes.” Castiel finished putting on his jacket and his perennial tan overcoat on top of it. “Remember…”

“Yes, yes, I got you on speed dial.” Meg rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about anything.”

“I do worry.”

“And I… appreciate you for it.”

She was about to say something different and she was glad she caught herself.

Castiel gave her another onceover, as if he wanted to make sure everything was in order and then, finally, he started heading for the door. Meg’s heart climbed to her throat and she didn’t know where the impulse of asking him to stay a little longer, to help her a little more, came from. She suppressed it just like she had suppressed the other word before.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Castiel said, stopping right at the door. “I took the liberty of answering your phone while you were sleeping. Your parents and Rowena wanted to know how you were doing.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to call them back…”

“Also, Sam,” Castiel added. Quickly. Like that was Band-Aid that he needed to rip off.

“Oh.” Meg muttered. “What… what did he want?”

“He read about the crash and also just wanted to check up on you,” Castiel explained. He seemed more awkward now than he had in days. “I told him you would call him back, but if you don’t want to, you can blame it on me forgetting to tell you.”

“Wouldn’t that be awfully convenient?” she said, forcing out a laughter. “No. I… I think I avoided him long enough.”

Castiel lingered at the door for a few more seconds after that. It almost looked like he was expecting Meg to ask him to stay and hold her hand while she talked to her ex-boyfriend. Which she wasn’t going to do, of course. She wasn’t that pathetic.

In the end, he wished her good night and left. Meg stayed on the couch, immobile. His absence felt like something tangible, like a physical wave of sadness and pain she wasn’t expecting. For the first time in years, she noticed exactly how big and empty her small apartment was for just one person.

Castiel had left her phone conveniently on the coffee table. She only needed to stretch her hand and grab it. It was as if he knew that if she couldn’t reach it easily, she would use that as an excuse not to call. And she’d been avoiding this long enough.

Castiel had also taken the liberty to store Sam’s phone number. Meg noticed that he’d actually called twice since Monday and tried to still her heart as she pressed the green button on her screen.

He picked up after two rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Sam,” Meg sighed. “I just… I’m calling you back.”

“Right, of course. How are you feeling, Meg?”

Even in those circumstances, he was being so nice and cordial. Meg shook her head.

“Actually, you know what? This isn’t working for me. We should talk face to face,” she said, speaking quickly before she had a chance to regret it. “Which day is good for you?”


	9. Chapter 9

Meg kept her promise and answered all of Castiel’s calls on time.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Are you sleeping correctly? Are you eating right?”

“I haven’t passed out for twelve hours straight in a couple days and yes, I am eating all the nutritious food you left me, Mom. So you don’t have to come around here to check on me.”

She mocked him, but there were no bad intentions behind it. It was almost playful. Almost like she was trying to show him that she was the same spunky, sarcastic, confident Meg as always.

And of course, Castiel was glad to hear this, but it didn’t change the fact he worried about her almost constantly. She had asked him specifically not to do that, but he couldn’t help it. If Anna asked him or made fun of him for it, Castiel told her that he was just doing his job and caring for Meg’s physical health was just part of it.

The truth was, he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her.

“I managed to watch an entire episode of a TV show today!” she informed him. “I got a headache while doing it, but that might have been because it was utter crap.”

That made him laugh.

“Well, I’ll call that progress.”

“It’s great progress,” she replied. There was a pause. Castiel was thinking about asking her something else, just to prolong that conversation a little longer, when she added: “Actually, I do need you to come here on Friday.”

“What for?” Castiel asked, frowning. Was she finally going to see a doctor (other than herself) about her concussion?

“I talked to Sam. He asked me to come by his office.”

Her voice didn’t waver while saying it. Nothing about her tone could have made anyone suspect that she was in any way affected by what she was saying.

Castiel knew better, of course.

“Is it…?”

“Everything’s fine. We both agreed to be very adult about it,” she continued, as if there had been no interruption. “But I do need you to drive me there.”

“Of course.”

“And maybe… stand around pretending to be my boyfriend?” she added, her voice lowering a bit as if there was anyone who would hear her. “It’s the last time, I swear!”

Castiel smiled to himself. What he really wanted to tell her was that he didn’t mind at all. That he could stand around her pretending to be anything she wanted, anything she needed him to be, for as long as and as many times as she told him to. Because he had no problem at all pretending to be in love with her.

Of course, after everything she’d told him, that would have been inappropriate. She already knew how he felt and she’d said she needed time. He could respect that.

“Do you want me to flex on him as well? Stare at him with jealous rage?”

“Seriously?”

“Or should I mention how he was an idiot for letting you go?”

“I was the one who broke it off, remember?”

“Still. A significant other should always feel like the other person’s ex is a complete and utter idiot.”

She laughed and that was the only thing Castiel could have asked for.

“No, just… stand there and look pretty while you’re giving me moral support,” she said. “That’s all I need.”

“Supportive boyfriend. I can do that.”

“And don’t wear a suit!” she warned him. “You’ve got to look casual.”

So, following those very detail instructions, Castiel showed up at Meg’s building on Friday sporting a pair of jeans and a white buttoned up shirt. Benny did a very obvious double-take when he spotted him.

“What?” Castiel asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Nothing. I was just starting to think that suit of yours was melted to your skin, is all.”

“Very funny,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes.

“Hot date?”

“I’m just here to drive Doctor Masters.”

“Right, right,” Benny said, but there was a note of disbelief in his voice. Castiel wish he had something smart to reply to him, but the door opened and Meg appeared right then.

She also wasn’t wearing the same dress slacks and nice blouses she wore to the hospital every day. That day, instead, she’d opted for a pair of jeans as well, a purple t-shirt, a black leather jacket and a pair of motorcycle boots. She also carried a black backpack instead of her usual purse. She looked far less formal and a little more like herself in a way Castiel couldn’t quite explain. Like he could completely expect that woman to spit out her usual sarcastic lines.

“Heya, Clarence,” she greeted him.

So, they were sticking with that nickname after all. Castiel simply smiled and opened the building’s door for her.

“Have fun!” Benny wished them.

Castiel frowned. Had he really assumed they were going on a date? Because that wasn’t… going to see Meg’s ex-fiancé and then bringing her back home wasn’t exactly his idea of a date.

She didn’t seem bothered by it, though. She stopped on the street and stared ahead.

“What is that?” she asked.

“My car.”

“No, it isn’t.” Meg chuckled, but glanced at Castiel’s face and realized he was completely serious. “Oh, my God, why?”

“Well, your father hasn’t assigned a new car to us yet and I figured that you wouldn’t want to take public transportation for this…”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Meg cut him off.

It wasn’t the first Castiel received criticism over the 1978 Lincoln Continental. It was an old model and yes, he could probably replace it for something that was more fuel-efficient. However, he’d found that most people’s objections were actually over its jubilee gold color. It was, according to Anna, “too flashy” and “pimp-y”. He still wasn’t sure what she meant by that.

“Because neither my past nor my current economic position will allow me to change it,” he said, opening the passenger’s door for Meg. “And even if it did, I like this car.”

“Okay, but why?”

Castiel glared at her and Meg smirked. She was teasing him, as usual. And well, Castiel was discovering that it was hard for him to stay mad at her for long.

They chatted amicably all the way to Sam Winchester’s office. Meg told him about how he was sleeping, how she was eating and how she was feeling, as if it was another conversation they had on the phone for him to check on her physical state.

“You didn’t need to do that, you know?” she commented when he pointed this out. “Your job is to keep the bad guys away, not hold my hand while I recover.”

“I don’t mind holding your hand.”

It wasn’t until after the words have left his mouth that he realized exactly how they sounded. He panicked for a second, but Meg either didn’t catch the implication or simply chose to ignore it. They were close to the Congressman’s office now and she started fidgeting with the charm around her neck, with her hair, with her jacket’s sleeves.

“Guess we’re here,” she said, looking at the building in front of her.

“We are, yes.”

Castiel found a spot and made sure to park painstakingly slow to give her time to calm down. It turned out to be counterproductive: by the time he stopped, Meg was practically jumping out of the car. He watched her closely and suggested:

“We could always just… not go inside, if you don’t feel like it.”

Meg stayed silent for a few seconds, as if she was seriously considering it. Then she shook her head.

“No. No, I’ve been putting this off for too long.” She sighed. “But if you notice that we need to get out there, say we’re going to run out of time in the parking meter.”

The campaign office was far smaller and messier than the elegant place Senator Masters had. For starters, it was on the ground floor, the doors were opened for anybody to come and go inside. Instead of neat little offices separated in the floor, it was big open space with the paper-covered desks rammed next to one another. Instead of a single dignified secretary and a couple of security guards, there were aids, picking up calls and typing away in computers, so it was far noisier and busier. There was a giant poster of a smiling Sam on one of the walls, with the legend “Winchester for the Senate” right underneath.

Nobody paid attention to them when they walked inside, so they stood by the door, looking around a little disconcerted until a short woman with black hair came closer to them.

“Can I help you?” she asked. There was something odd about her voice, a strange accent that he couldn’t identify at first.

“Yes, hi, I’m Meg Masters.” Meg introduced herself and offered her hand to the other woman. “Sam is waiting for me.”

“Oh.” The woman opened her eyes wide and then gestured towards the other end of the office. “Yes. Come with me, please.”

There was a glass door and the only thing that looked mildly like a private office in that place. Their guide opened it without knocking.

“Sam?” she called and Castiel realized why her accent sounded a little strange when she started gesturing with her hands.

Sam Winchester himself, the man he heard so much about, was sitting behind another desk.

“Right. Thank you, Eileen,” he replied, gesturing the meaning of his words as well. “Please, if Dean hasn’t left, tell him to come.”

He looked just as handsome as his picture, but Castiel wasn’t expecting him to be so tall. He towered easily over Meg and Eileen and he was even a head taller than Castiel. But the energy that radiated from him was entirely different from Senator Masters. Meg’s father was effortlessly confident, a man that commanded the room and was well-aware of his own importance. Sam, however, seemed humble and friendly as he moved forwards to greet Meg.

“Meg. It’s… it’s been a while,” he said. He raised his arms as if he was going to hug her, but then put them down, tried to offer her his hand, but changed his mind at the last second. “How you… how you’ve been?”

Meg just watched him get uncomfortable without doing anything to ease him.

“Good, thank you,” she said, her tone a little tense. “This is Castiel Milton.”

Luckily for him, Sam was better equipped at greeting a complete stranger.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, offering a firm handshake and a charming smile. Castiel recognized that as a Senator Masters’ move. So perhaps Sam had learned something from his former mentor after all. “Would you like to take a seat? I can ask them to bring us coffee…”

“That won’t be necessary. I know you’re busy and I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Meg interrupted him. As she spoke, she swung her backpack forwards, opened it and rummaged inside for a few seconds. “I just came to drop this.”

It was a little black ring box and it wasn’t necessary for anybody to clarify what was inside. Sam stared at it with wide eyes and held his breath for a second before he reached for it.

“Right,” he muttered. He opened the box and took a long gander at the ring inside it. He looked strangely moved by it and Castiel remembered that Meg had mentioned it’d belonged to his mother. “Right. Thank you. I…”

“She’s a lucky girl,” Meg added, before Sam could continue. “Whoever you’re planning on giving this to.”

Sam didn’t even try to deny there was another person. It would have been downright insulting towards Meg.

“I’m a lucky guy,” he corrected.

A short silence followed. Castiel was about to bring up the parking meter when the office door opened again. Sam quickly put the box down, covered it with a folder and then sat in front of it for good measure. He seemed very interested in hiding from view as Eileen walked back inside, followed by none other than Dean Winchester.

“Well, here I am,” he announced, grumpily. “Meg.”

“Dean,” she greeted him back, just as coldly.

“And… weird new boyfriend dude,” Dean added, gesturing towards Castiel.

“My name’s Castiel.”

“Right, that’s what it was,” Dean said, even though Castiel doubted that he’d cared to try and remember his name.

“Dean, do you have something to say to Meg?” Sam asked, with the tone of a stern teacher chastising a difficult student.

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes before he spoke:

“Sorry I ambushed you in the parking lot. It was not the greatest idea.”

“Well, as far as apologies go, I’ve heard worse,” Meg said, with a shrug.

“Now, do you mind calling off your fed friend?” Dean asked.

“Oh, that wasn’t me.” Meg turned to give Castiel a pointed out.

“I reported the incident,” he admitted. “Even though Meg assured me you had no real ill-intent towards her, I acted… overzealously.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Meg quipped.

“I apologize as well, for any inconvenience it might have caused you.”

“Well, awesome,” Dean replied. “We’ve all apologized to everybody, so I guess that means we can all move on now, right?”

“Hopefully,” Meg replied. “I think we should go. Our parking meter is going to run out…”

“Ah, yes, the parking meter,” Castiel said, standing up. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you in person, congressman.”

“Pleasure to meet you too.”

There was a bit of a movement when Eileen, Dean and Meg all headed for the door. Castiel was about to leave as well, but Sam’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“So, the… the threats to Senator Masters. Is that true?”

Castiel hesitated. On one hand, he was sure neither Senator Masters nor Agent Henriksen wouldn’t be too happy with him revealing too much. On the other, if Meg trusted him, he saw no reason not to do the same thing.

“I’m afraid so,” Castiel said.

“Huh.” Sam bit the inside of his cheek. “I know what this might look like, but I assure you nor me, not anyone from my campaign would ever…”

“I believe you,” Castiel assured him. “So does Meg.”

Sam nodded and looked up. Meg had stopped in the middle of the chaos of desks and was talking about something with Eileen. His features softened and Castiel suspected that, just like Meg, he still harbored some feelings for her, even though he’d quite obviously moved on.

“Take care of her, will you?”

“Oh, she doesn’t need me to,” Castiel said, smiling to himself, remembering how much Meg protested every time he tried to. “But I’ll do it anyway.”

Sam smiled as well, as he understood exactly what he meant.

They hurriedly followed the others. Meg and Eileen saw them coming and quickly shook each other’s hands.

“Well, we should leave,” Meg said. And to Castiel’s surprise, she moved to grab his hands, her fingers intertwining firmly with his. “Good luck.”

“Same to you,” Eileen said, with a cordial smile.

Meg didn’t let go of his hand even after they left the office. She didn’t let go until they were back in the car and he offered to get the door for her. He walked around and got behind the wheel, only to notice that Meg had her head thrown back against the headrest and she was breathed in slowly and deeply.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said, but he had the impression her voice was breaking a little. She recovered rather quickly, though. “So… what did you think?”

Castiel realized that she was asking to distract herself, so he tried to come up with a smart answer.

“Well, no offense to your father, but… I think I might be voting for Sam.”

Meg let out a chortle that quickly became a strangled sob. Castiel had no idea what to say, so instead, he put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. He just wanted to let her know that he was there. She wasn’t alone.

And it worked. She allowed himself to cry softly for a few minutes before taking in a couple of deep breaths and sitting up straight again. She looked for some tissues inside her backpack and blew her nose.

“So… where should I take you?” Castiel asked, after a few seconds of silence. “Home?”

“The love of my life is marrying someone else,” Meg stated, bitterly. “No, I don’t want to go home.”

Castiel ignored the pang in his chest that came with those words.

“So, where do you want to go?”

Meg stayed silent for several seconds, looking away through the window.

“Where did you go after you decided to get a divorce?” she asked. “The first time you felt like things were going to turn out alright after all, where did you go?”

Castiel tapped on the wheel with his fingers. Not because he didn’t know the exact answer to that question, but because…

“It’s a three hours ride.”

“I have nowhere else to be,” she said, with a shrug. “If I show up at work, Rowena is going to kick me out and it’s not like I can call Ruby to drink my sorrows away. So… just take me there.”

She seemed decided and Castiel found no reason to argue with her. He turned on the engine and headed for the road.

* * *

If he knew they were going to be taking that excursion, he would’ve packed some sort of lunch that actually tasted like food. As it had been a rather impromptu thing, they had to stop by a Biggersons’ next to the road. Castiel complained about it the whole time.

“The food is greasy and I’m not even sure this is actually meat,” he said, as he held the burger in front of his face with a frown. “The only reason I haven’t ordered the salad instead is because I dread to think about the state they keep their vegetables in.”

He really didn’t hate the burgers all that much. Yes, they were tasteless and terrible, but they were edible. The only reason he kept on ranting about them as long as he did was because Meg seemed to find his complaining funny. And after she’d nearly fallen apart in the car, Castiel was desperate to make her feel better.

“Bet you were like one of those assholes chefs on TV when you had your restaurant,” she teased him.

“I made sure all the ingredients we used were bought at the farmer’s market so all the produce was sustainable and fresh,” he said, with pride. “And it showed.”

He tried to hide away the sadness that caused him to talk about it, but he wasn’t quite sure he did it right. Meg’s tone was a lot softer when she asked:

“What was it called?”

“Cas’,” he said. “I offered to called it ‘Milton’s’ or ‘April & Cas’. But she always said that she thought this was a project that was more mine than ours.”

“So that was her name,” Meg pointed out. “April.”

Castiel put down his burger. He was an idiot for being so afraid of things that couldn’t hurt him anymore, but he just couldn’t help her.

“Why do you want to know about her?” he asked. He didn’t mean to sound defensive, but Meg raised her hands as if to indicate she meant no ill-will towards him.

“I’m just… I’m trying to figure out what kind of woman could have possibly snagged you,” she said, with a soft smile in her lips. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that just marries someone intending to divorce them later.”

“Does anybody do that?”

“Shit happens,” she replied. “That’s why prenups exist. The reason I was so sure I could marry Sam was that I knew if one day I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore, for whatever reason, he would accept that and move on like a gentleman. We wouldn’t still be married out of obligation even if we were completely miserable.”

“Like a fire escape.”

“Exactly!” Meg said, snapping her fingers. “You hope the building isn’t going to catch fire, but if it does, don’t you feel better knowing there’s a way to get out quickly before you get hurt?”

That made an incredibly amount of sense. And it helped Castiel explain exactly what had been wrong.

“My relationship with April didn’t have fire escapes.”

Meg tilted her head with interest, but before she could, Castiel checked his cellphone and announced:

“We should go. My aunt is waiting for us.”

He didn’t try to keep where they were going a surprise, but he still enjoyed the surprise in her face when they drove up to the farm and he opened the door for her.

“Damn,” she muttered. “I didn’t know bee farming paid this well.”

It was easy to see why she thought so. Aunt Amara’s house was a two story ranch style place, with a wrap around porch and a grey ceiling. It was rustic, but charming. The most impressive part of it was the flowery garden that grew in front of it: it was full of beautiful, exuberant flowers whose scent mixed in the air, carried by the summer breeze. Bees buzzed as they lazily flew around them, working calmly and happily with it.

As soon as they had taken two steps into the path, the main door swung open and Aunt Amara came out running at them, her sundress flowing behind her. Her long dark hair fell around her sharp features that could make her look stern sometimes, but right now, she had a welcoming grin upon her lips.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, extending her arms for Castiel to give her a hug. “I thought you’d got lost on the way here!”

“How could I get lost?”

His aunt kissed him on both cheeks.

“Well, it’s been so long since you came that I thought you’d forgotten the way.”

That was her not so subtle way of telling him that he should have visited her more often. The farm was isolated, next to a secondary road that run around Castiel’s hometown, because Aunt Amara and her husband loathed going there and avoided it at all cost if they could. People in town considered them extremely eccentric and, in a way, they were.

But Castiel also had some of his happiest memories in that place.

“This is the friend I told you about,” he introduced her. “Meg, my Aunt Amara.”

“So nice to meet you!” Aunt Amara said, kissing Meg on both cheeks. “It’s been a while since Castiel brought a girl here.”

Castiel felt an immediate panic in his stomach. He should’ve been cleared about what his relationship with Meg was. He started babbling on:

“Oh, it’s not like that… Meg is my friend…”

“Sure she is,” Aunt Amara said, lassoing her arm around Meg’s. “Do you want me to give you the tour.”

“I would love that!” Meg said.

They both walked away, leaving Castiel behind to wonder if he’d made a mistake in introducing them.

But Meg seemed pleased as Aunt Amara told her about how she’d bought the land and built the farm from scratch, how she cared for the bees and picked up the honey and how she needed a great variety of flowers for them to pollinate.

“I keep the lavender in a patch over there,” she said, pointing at the edge of the field. “Have you ever tried lavender honey cake?”

“No, I don’t think I have.”

“Well, good thing I put one in the oven before you got here,” Aunt Amara said. “You’re staying for tea, aren’t you?”

She was very blatant in her attempts to get to know Meg, but she didn’t seem bothered at all. She talked about her research with such passion that her dark eyes were shining.

“We think it can help a whole host of patients with similar symptoms from chronic illness that attack the nervous system and the brain… I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all!” Amara assured her. She seemed pleased. “So, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re a doctor… how did my nephew managed to get a girl like you?”

“We’re not…” Castiel tried to protest.

“I like a man that can cook,” Meg interrupted him and Amara laughed as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“That’s the one thing he happens to be good at, thank goodness. Cain!” she called when they approached the beehives. “Come say hi to Cas and his new girlfriend!”

Castiel wasn’t sure if she said “girlfriend” or “girl-friend”.

Cain was among the beehives, sporting the white beekeeper suit that made him look like an astronaut exploring a faraway planet. At least, that had been Castiel’s impression when he was a child and he could never quite shake it off even as he grew up. Cain removed his helmet and veil to reveal his greying hair and bushy beard and stared at them with his piercing blue eyes.

“You again,” he said.

“Yes, me again.”

“Have you come to pay all the rent from the months you crashed in our couch?”

Meg crooked an eyebrow and Castiel figured he should’ve warned her that Cain pretended to be a grumpy old man who was literally not impressed by anything and got along with no one but his wife. But he and his siblings knew well enough that he spoke harshly about everyone to their faces, but praised them behind their backs.

“I’ll write you a check,” Castiel said.

“So you have a job now? Good. Maybe you can move out of your sister’s apartment and stop bothering her soon. She has a very demanding job, you know. I don’t think any of you could do what she does.”

Castiel smiled. Anna had told him that Cain had once said “You just sit around and write all day, what’s hard about that?” while praising Castiel for serving his country and being a man with his own business. He didn’t like letting people know he appreciate them. Maybe that was the reason he’d worked for Amara for ages before they finally got married.

“This is Meg,” Castiel introduced him.

Cain shook her hand and eyed her head to toe.

“Nice to meet you. You could do better than him,” he determined, before putting on the helmet again and walking away to keep on working as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all.

Amara made no apologies for her husband’s apparent rudeness.

“I should go check on the cake!” she determined. “Cas, why don’t you show her the hills? The sight is beautiful.”

She winked at him and left them alone to continue their way down her immense property.

Meg seemed amused.

“Are they… like this with everybody?”

“Oh, yes,” Castiel said. “But they are good people. They let me stay with them after the divorce was finalized. I could have stayed in the town with my father or one of my siblings, but… I couldn’t handle their judging.”

They climbed unto one of the hills. Meg almost stumbled and Castiel automatically reached out for her arm to help her keep her balance.

“How is your back?”

“I’m handling it,” she said, with a shrug. “Why did they judge you?”

Castiel winced. Of course, she was going to focus on that part of his story. She was like a dog with a bone.

“Let’s sit down,” he suggested.

The grass was soft and green under their hands. The breeze blew Meg’s hair and made it fall over her shoulders. She closed her eyes, a peaceful expression on her face. If Castiel could, he would have stared at her for hours, just like this: calm and serene, no emotional turmoil or threats to think about it. Just the two of them, sitting on that hill enjoying the quiet afternoon.

But she finally opened her eyes and turned her attention back at him. He knew she wasn’t going to simply let it go and, after everything she had told him, he guessed he owed it to her to be just as honest.

“April was… she was a troubled woman,” he started. “I knew she was troubled before I married her. We were high school sweethearts and we were always… fighting, breaking up and making up. She didn’t like me talking to other girls, she would freak out if I went out with my family or my friends and didn’t tell her about it. I think she just liked picking fights with me sometimes when she was bored. We broke up for what I thought would be the last time right before she went to college and I was sent to serve overseas. She said she couldn’t handle us being so far apart, she wanted to be free to meet other people and I respected that. But then I came back after a tour and she was waiting for me at the airport. She said she’d realized that no one understood her like I did and that she wanted us to give it another shot.”

“And you agreed.”

“Of course I agreed. I knew her better than anybody and I did love her. I was hoping that our time apart had matured us both enough that we would leave our teenage behavior behind us.” He sighed and Meg could easily guess what happened next.

“But it didn’t.”

“We got married, I opened the restaurant and we had a few good years. Then the addictions began.”

“Oh, no,” Meg muttered, softly. “Alcohol?”

“Alcohol, drugs, gambling. Men who weren’t me.” Castiel grimaced. It was still painful to think about, despite all that time. “Ellen, the local bar owner, she must have called me a thousand times to tell me to come pick up my drunk wife because she was in no condition to drive. Then sometimes April would leave for days on end and return crying, telling me she was never leaving me again. I knew she’d run away with some random stranger and cheated on me, but I would forgive her every time. And I tried so hard to help her. I tried everything: I drove her to AA meetings, rehab centers, at least three different therapists. Sometimes she would be fine for months, sometimes years at a time. And then she would, inevitably, relapse again.”

Meg moved a little closer to him, so their shoulders would graze each other. Castiel appreciated this. It felt… strangely comforting to be able to tell this story. He thought he was going to break down crying and yes, he did feel a heaviness in his chest at the worst memories, but he was calm.

All of that had happened to another man, the Castiel that had been in love with April. He’d stopped being that man years before he even put an end to their marriage.

“At some point, she got it into her head that we should have a baby, that having children would fix everything. I refused and it infuriated her. She went as far as to throw a flower vase at me on one occasion when I wouldn’t sleep with her.”

“Oh, my God,” Meg mumbled.

“I wouldn’t budge. Adding children to the mixture would’ve made the whole situation so much worse.”

“Of course.”

“She then ran away with another man whose name I didn’t want to find out,” Castiel continued. “And this time, she wasn’t gone for a few days or a few weeks like before. She was gone for months. I started talking to a lawyer about the possibility of getting a divorce, against my father’s advice, who thought I should find April and bring her home again, but I just… I didn’t have the energy to do that anymore.”

“I get it,” Meg said. “You couldn’t save someone who didn’t want to be saved.”

Castiel smiled, sadly. He wished his father had seen it that way, but everybody thought he was giving up on their marriage. And maybe he was, but he was only human. He couldn’t handle anymore.

“Then she called me, crying. Her ‘boyfriend’ had abandoned her and she was thousands and thousands of dollars in debt… which she had put in our joint credit cards. She’d emptied our bank account, she’d…” He closed his eyes. This was the hardest part of the story, because even when April had been gone, he’d always had his restaurant, his little place where he could unleash his passion for cooking. “She’d never gone this far before. It was some sort of… vindication for not having children with her. We were bankrupted. I had to sell the restaurant and the house. We lost everything. _I_ lost everything.”

“Cas…” Meg said, softly. Her hand come to rest on his and Castiel closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of her touch.

“I… I regret having stayed that long,” he concluded. “I don’t regret trying to help April, I don’t regret loving her. But I regret not having seen the building was burning and I alone couldn’t put out the fire.”

“I’m sorry.” Meg’s thumb drew a slow circle over his knuckles. “Damn, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No.” Castiel opened his eyes again and settled them on her. “No, I’m glad you did.”

They looked at each other in silence. Meg then lowered her eyes at their hands together, but she didn’t move them away. Instead, she slid it so their palms could touch and their fingers could hold on together.

“Do you think…?” she started and stopped. It seemed like she needed to really think about the question before saying it out loud. She took in a deep breath. “Do you think that after everything you went through, after having your heart broken like that… is it possible to… start over?”

He knew she wasn’t just asking that for him. He placed a hand under her chin and softly directed her gaze up.

“I know it is.”

And he believed it. After all, he never thought he would fall for another woman again. But Meg was right in front of him, proving him wrong.

He wanted to prove her wrong, too.

He leaned slightly forwards and Meg’s lips parted…

“Cas! Meg!” Amara’s voice called from the house. “Tea is ready!”

Meg pulled back first and Castiel breathed in deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

“We should…”

“Yes.”

Castiel stood up and extended his hand to help her up. Meg staggered a little and ended crashing against him, so he had no choice but to grab her by the waist and hold her close while she pressed her hands against his chest.

Somehow, it felt more intimate than if he had in fact kissed her.

Meg looked up at him and smiled. Not the sharp smirk he was used to see on her, not the wide grin that accompanied her sarcastic quips. A sad, soft smile that was not more genuine, exactly, but perhaps… sincerer. More vulnerable.

Castiel’s breath got caught in his throat.

“Thank you,” she told him as she stepped away from him. “For bringing me here, for… telling me about April.”

“It’s… it was nothing.”

“By the way, you were right.”

“About what?”

Meg took a deep breath and looked up at the sinking sky again.

“I did feel better here.”


	10. Chapter 10

As summer turned into autumn, Meg started doing this whole thing people kept recommending she did, called “taking it easy”. It was extremely bizarre for her, but she’d got lucky with the whole concussion business and she wasn’t about to let Rowena drag her into the hospital for an MRI like she threatened to do. So if Meg had even the slightest hint of a headache, she took her leave early, which Rowena was more than happy to let her do.

“Go home, snuggle with your man,” she would insist. “I can handle the fort here.”

Meg still hadn’t come clean about Castiel not actually being her boyfriend and at this point, she didn’t think she was going to for two simple reasons. The first one was that, even though Rowena insisted that she understood why Meg hadn’t said anything about the threats and whatnot, she still resented her a little for keeping it quiet. Pure and simple cowardice was her excuse not to reveal she had even more secrets.

And the second reason was…

Well, she wasn’t sure anymore what her and Castiel were.

Because they were _something_. She wouldn’t have told him about her MS if they weren’t. He wouldn’t have told her about April. All those kisses, all that pretending, it was turning into something different. Meg just didn’t know into what.

Castiel was still his bodyguard and on a certain level, he still kept his “professional distance”. He picked her up, dropped her at the hospital, went with her to the gym or wherever else she needed to go. He called her ‘Dr. Masters’ in front of other people, he canvassed his apartment every night when he dropped her off. It was all the same routine as before.

But at the same time, there were changes in his behavior so small that Meg didn’t know if she was imagining them or not. He was a little handsier with her, like his time by her side had made him develop a sixth sense that indicated him when she was about to stumble and fall. He always grabbed her by the elbow or by the shoulder, but on one occasion, he unconsciously put his hand on the small of her back. He moved it away almost immediately, like it burned him, and kept talking normally, but Meg could’ve sworn his cheeks were redder than before.

At least once a week, if she left the hospital early, he would ask her if she wanted to go home or if she wanted to go somewhere else. When Meg would take him up on his offer, he would take her somewhere: a museum or some sightseeing place that Meg knew existed but never would’ve gone if it wasn’t for him. One time they sat down on a park to have ice cream like they were teenagers and, another, he took her to watch a movie Meg had mentioned in passing she wanted to see. It turned out to be a complete bore, but it was nice to watch it with him by his side.

Meg would hesitate to call these dates. They split everything, they alternated who chose to go where. They were more like… two friends hanging out together, laughing. She tried not to think what it meant that he consistently chose to spend time with her instead of with his sister or any friends. She also didn’t want to consider why she didn’t mind him interrupting her precious solitude the way he did.

He also brought her food. It started one day, randomly, when he asked her through the intercom if he could come up instead of just waiting for her downstairs like they normally would do.

“I just… I have some leftovers from last night’s dinner,” he said. “I would like to put them away on your fridge so you can reheat them tonight, if you want. It will only take a minute and then we be on our way. I promise, I won’t make you late.”

And what was Meg really supposed to say to that? She wasn’t about going to turn down some of Castiel’s fabulous food.

But then it also became part of their routine: he would bring her chicken, beef, pasta, all homemade and done from scratch, in neat plastic containers wrapped in foil. He insisted that Anna didn’t eat too much or that he’d “accidentally” made more than they could eat, but Meg noticed than when she complimented any one particular dish, it was more likely than not to show up again before the week was up.

So, the only conclusion she could reach was that he was actually investing his time, money and effort into making an entire extra dish for her.

“You’re going to make me gain weight,” Meg complained one time.

“Funny. Anna says the same thing, but she keeps eating everything I make.”

“That’s because your cooking is a goddamn delight and I hate you for spoiling me with it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What am I going to do when you don’t have to make sure some maniac isn’t trying to kill me?”

She immediately regretted asking this, because Castiel’s eyes became a little darker.

“Yes, I… I suppose you won’t eat as much then,” he mumbled clumsily, his hands tightening around the wheel.

And that was strange too. She had referred to end of his employment jokingly, as lightly as she could because, well, she wasn’t looking forwards to it. She was certain that, at the end of it, she was going to have to answer the questions she was so carefully avoiding now, like “What are we?” and “What are we going to do?” It would be nice not to have Agent Henriksen snooping around in her business, it would be nice not to drive around fearing that another car was going to the T-bone them out of the blue.

But at the same time, she didn’t want her relationship with Castiel to stop existing in this comfortable in-between, when they were friends, but only work friends; when they were maybe dating, but not really. Because then it would be real, and real meant dealing with the bad days, and the bumps on the road, and with learning how to love an entirely new person. Real meant scary.

And she realized now that what she said sounded like she didn’t plan on seeing Castiel again after he stopped being her bodyguard.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked when they parked on the hospital’s parking lot. That was another thing that had changed. He didn’t use to offer that before, but now it was like he didn’t want the time he spent with her to come to an end, even when it needed to.

Meg didn’t answer. She needed a second to put her thoughts in order.

“I know what you’re doing, you know?”

Castiel turned to look at her with his usual frown, the one that made Meg want to run her fingers through his forehead to try to even out the creases.

“What… what am I doing?”

“I just don’t understand why you need to pretend like you cooked more on accident.”

“Oh.” Castiel lowered his eyes, but there was a faint smile in his lips, like that of a child that had been caught trying to steal a cookie but didn’t really feel sorry for it. “Well, would you have accepted the food if I had outright given it to you?”

That was a fair question and Meg didn’t even try to answer it, because they both knew the answer.

The only reason Castiel had managed to get as close to her as she did was because he’d been a sneaky motherfucker about it.

“Okay, well, you can drop the pretense.”

“Do you want me to stop bringing you the food…?”

“Did I say that?”

Castiel blinked at her. Meg huffed.

“How about I pay you for it?”

“There’s no need for that, Meg,” he replied. “I do it because I care about you.”

Goddammit, why did he had to be so blunt about it? What was Meg supposed to answer to that? She opted for humor, because this was turning way too serious for her comfort.

“Well, I care about the state of your wallet,” she said. “So, you keep cooking but I contribute for my part of the ingredients, is that okay?”

“Will that make you feel better about just accepting the food?”

“Infinitely, yes.”

“Okay, then,” Castiel said and offered her his hand. “It’s a deal.”

Meg chuckled but they shook on it. And it felt really good about it. It felt like accepting his help, but still maintaining some semblance of control over it.

She didn’t know exactly why she needed to have control, but she was glad he would let her have it. Especially because sometimes she felt like didn’t have it in so many other areas.

Her family, for starters.

Cecily called her on her cellphone in the middle of her workday a few days later. The bitch didn’t even call her early in the morning or waited for her lunch break, so Meg felt like she was entitled to blow her off. But she was well-aware that she was just going to call again and again until she picked up and she didn’t feel like dealing with her excessively chirpy voice more than once, so it was best to just get it over with.

“Good morning, Miss Masters! I’m calling to confirm your assistance to your father’s fundraising dinner party!”

Why the hell did he still needed to throw a fundraising? The election was a year away, didn’t he already have enough money for it? Meg hadn’t taken a look at the polls lately, but she was certain that Sam couldn’t be making her father that nervous, so what was it with all the courting donors and fundraisings and whatnot?

And more importantly, was there a chance that she could blow it off?

“No can do, the Senator insists you be there,” Cecily said when Meg asked her.

Meg sighed. She really didn’t want to hear about how terrible she would be for deserting her family at such an important event or whatever his father would say to guilt her into going.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

“Great! Will you be bringing a plus one?”

Meg considered this. There was really only one person she could think of that would make that terrible event at least a little bearable.

“Does my bodyguard count?”

“The party will count with its own security team, Miss Masters. So it won’t be necessary.”

And it was the tone of her, the underhanded contempt, as if she was more than Castiel even though they were both technically paid by the same guy, that made incensed Meg more than anything else.

“You know what? I will be bringing a date, I think.”

“Oh.” There was surprise in Cecily’s voice. “Well, alright. I’ll indicate this in your invitation.”

Meg hung up without thanking her. Yeah, it was a little bit rude, but so was Cecily for calling in the middle of the damn workday.

Castiel was surprised when she gave him the news.

“Is this… an obligatory event?” he asked, wincing. Meg knew right away that he was going to hate going to it, but he would if he must.

And damn, despite how much she wanted not to be alone for it, she couldn’t lie to him.

“It’s not obligatory for you,” she confessed. “You really don’t have to.”

“Do you want me to be there?”

She did not really appreciate his capacity to just cut through all of her bullshit like that. It left her feeling weak and strange, but at the same time…

Well, it was Castiel.

“Yes,” she admitted. And she didn’t feel like an idiot for doing so. She didn’t feel like she was making a mistake or like he would turn her down and hurt her.

Whenever he set his blue gaze on her, Meg had no choice but to trust him.

“Then I’ll be there.”

She knew he would. And dammit, that was the scariest thing of it all.

* * *

It had been a while since Meg had gone to one of those damn events, so she’d pretty much forgotten what they entailed. Or, in any case, she’d blocked it from her memory in order to try and avoid the trauma of it all. Was she being dramatic? Perhaps.

But it was hard not to be when her mother had her twirling in fifteen different dresses that she found virtually no difference in and that all costed an exorbitant amount of money.

“No, not that one, dear, it makes you look fat,” Lilith said, shaking her head.

“I am fat, mother,” Meg replied, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been gaining weight for a while because of the treatment.”

Sometimes she liked to do that, to be as blunt as possible when talking to her mother. Lilith Masters, however, was rarely shaken by anything at all. Or at least, she did a damn good job at pretending not to be.

“Well, isn’t there any other way to treat you?”

“Not one as effective,” Meg said, bitterly.

Lilith sighed and Meg swore to herself that if she made another comment about her body or how it was a shame that it was changing so much, she was going to scream, rip off the dress and storm off the store in her underwear.

But her mother also had a great radar to known when not to push an issue, so she went quiet.

“I’m just saying, there are other options we could look at…”

“Well, I like this one,” Meg said.

She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not, she just wanted the whole shopping trip to be done already. Dress number sixteen wasn’t bad, in any case: it was a light aquamarine, with a mermaid tail with white tulle underneath that made her think of sea foam. It was a little tight, but she liked the way it hugged her body and how it left one of her shoulders uncovered.

She wondered if Castiel would like it.

Almost as if she had read her mind, her mother immediately asked her:

“Well, if you like it so much, let’s buy it and go for lunch. And then you can tell me all about this mysterious plus one you’re bringing.”

“It’s great to know Cecily is a snitch,” Meg muttered, as she stepped down from the stool so one of the store’s clerk could help her unzip the dress.

“Please.” Lilith made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “She doesn’t tell me anything. I go through all of the emails she sends to your father.”

Meg stopped in the middle of getting dressed, stunned at those words.

“Mother…”

“Oh, it’s nothing personal,” Lilith said, shrugging. “I just wanted to know if Az was sleeping with her.”

And what the hell was Meg supposed to do, except finish putting her clothes back on, pay for the dress and follow her mother to the restaurant across the street in a complete stunned silence while she talked?

“I’m not saying that he did or didn’t sleep with any of his past secretaries, alright? It just seemed like this Cecily girl was extremely… let’s say, infatuated with your father. He insisted that it was merely a hero’s crush and there was nothing inappropriate about it… but you know, when I have a hunch…”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Meg asked, slightly horrified.

“Meg, we’re all adults, darling,” Lilith say, rolling her eyes. She signaled for the waiter to fill her cup with more wine. “And in any case, you never really idealized your father. You know he’s a man who has plenty of defects. You were always honest about pointing them out.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about his bedroom activities!”

Lilith shushed her. Apparently, it was okay for her to talk openly about all of this, but not for Meg to repeat it just a little louder.

“Did you find anything?” Meg asked, because her morbid curiosity wasn’t going to let her live if she didn’t.

“No, not really,” Lilith admitted, sipping from her glass.

“So… you violated his privacy and broke his trust for nothing.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, darling. We’ve been married for almost forty years. There’s no privacy left between us. And besides, yes, your father and I have always had our differences, but never to that extreme.”

Meg wasn’t sure that was the case and, if Lilith was looking for evidence, that meant she didn’t believe it either. Meg was tempted to bring up that conversation that she’d overheard about Crowley all those years ago, but of course, her mother would ever deny that had ever happened or claim not to recall it. So it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.

“Okay, let’s change the subject.”

“Yes, let’s.” Lilith’s smile was that of a cat about to eat a very fat mouse. “So, tell me about this plus one of yours…”

“Not that subject.”

Lilith huffed, and Meg suddenly felt like she was fifteen years old again and had just been caught cheating in class.

“I just want to know that my little girl is seeing someone who is good enough for her. I’m looking out for you.”

This was the part where Meg could’ve told her Castiel was her bodyguard and have some plausible deniability that anything else was going on between the two. But then again… that wasn’t fair for Castiel.

“Mom, it’s just… it’s too soon to tell if anything serious will come out of it.”

“Oh, very well.” Lilith pursed her lips and looked at Meg like she had refused her a piece of delicious cake. “But if it does, you will tell me, won’t you?”

Meg opened her mouth and closed it again. It had only just know occurred to her that her parents would absolutely approve of Castiel. He wouldn’t have to prove himself to them like Sam had to do; they would already automatically like him for being a vet and a “proper man”. The only thing he could do to make them dislike him would be to reveal he planned to vote against Azazel.

Lilith didn’t understand why she was suddenly laughing and Meg decided it would be funnier not to explain it.

* * *

Castiel picked her up on Saturday night in his ugly golden car once again. Meg was able to ignore how much of an eyesore it was because Castiel himself irremediably drew all the attention towards himself. It turned out that when the suit he was wearing was actually well-fitted, it could bring out all sorts of wonderful things in him, like his broad chest and his strong arms. His hair was slick and parted to the side and he had a cute black bowtie around his neck.

Meg made no attempt to hide the fact she was staring at his body, if only because he was staring right back at her. His eyes went from her face down, taking in the details of the dress, taking in her. Meg had not thought much of it when she’d first bought but to see his eyes grow dark and his lips parting like that…

She hadn’t felt as beautiful and sexy in a while. She didn’t want to think too much about the fact that he wanted her so much and instead and smiled at him.

“Hello, handsome,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Hello,” Castiel said. He immediately got obfuscated and pulled from the neck of his shirt. “Umh… Anna made me take this to a tailor.”

Meg made a mental note to send Anna a thank you card.

“You look good,” she said, taking a step towards him.

“Thank you. You… do too,” he replied. His voice dropped at the last word and he shook his head. Then he straightened his shoulders like he was gathering the strength to say something else: “You look beautiful.”

“Are you going to start making out?” Benny asked from behind his newspaper. “Because if you are, I’m just gonna go ahead and check out early.”

Castiel glared at him, like his interruption had ruined the moment. Meg was glad though, because it prevented him from seeing how much she was blushing and from having to answer. She took a few steps forwards… and of course, she ended up stumbling on her own legs.

Castiel, as usual, caught her without a thought. This time, however, Meg lassoed her arm around his before he had a chance to let her go. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she simply smiled at him.

“Don’t wait up for us, Benny.”

“Have fun, Dr. Masters,” he replied. There was unmistakable amusement in his voice, but she couldn’t be too mad about it.

Not when she was absolutely certain she was coming to the party with the most handsome piece of ass in the entire state.

“Are you nervous?”

“I have never been to one of these,” Castiel said, which wasn’t exactly an answer, but Meg took it. “I don’t know how to act around… that kind of people.”

“It’s not that complicated. You just smile a lot, nod along to whatever they’re telling you and grab as much canapés and champagne flutes as you can.”

“Sounds easy.”

“Stick with me and we can also mercilessly make fun of everyone else.”

He laughed and the tension on his shoulders relaxed visibly.

The party was taking place at a hotel that was a forty-five minutes’ drive. A valet came out to attend him and Meg made a joke about paying him extra to crash the car. She laughed when Castiel glared at her, but then she grabbed his arm again and his expression relaxed.

There was really nothing that could make her feel bad that night, not even Cecily waiting outside of the party hall. She wore a black dress that might have been simple and pretty if it wasn’t because of the enormous red flower she’d added on her shoulder.

“Hello! Can I see your invitation?”

“Cecily, you know who I am.”

“Sorry, Miss Masters. Those are the rules.”

Meg could have said forget it and ask Castiel to take her to the nearest fast food place they could find instead, but dammit, she’d already got all dolled up for this. She opened her clutch purse and handed Cecily the envelope.

“Very well, Miss Masters and… Captain Milton?” she asked, as if he’d just recognized him.

“Good evening,” Castiel said, because of course he was a perfect gentleman about all of this.

“Good… good evening,” Cecily stammered. She fidgeted with the card and looked around, as if she was waiting for someone to come to her rescue. “I just… I thought I said the party had its own security…”

“Yeah, you mentioned it,” Meg replied. “Cas is here as my friend.”

“Oh.” Cecily blinked, as if the concept of friends was something that just didn’t compute with her. “Very well, then. I, uh… enjoy the party!”

“Did she seem weird to you?” Castiel asked as they stepped inside.

“She always seems weird to me,” Meg said, with a shrug.

She had to admit that her mother (or the event planner she’d hired for this) had outdone herself. The tables and chairs were covered in white cloths and adorned with pale pink flowers and elaborate centerpieces. There was a string quartet playing in the corner, providing the scene with calm melodies. There were groups of three or four people gathered around, talking and laughing in that collected manner they used when they wanted to seem jovial, but not too excessively emotional.

She instantly hated everything about it.

But hey, at least there were several waiters walking about with plenty of alcohol.

“Do you need to sit?”

“I would love that, but we have to find my family’s table,” Meg explained. “We can’t just sit anywhere.”

Castiel stared at her as if the concept of assigned seats was completely foreign to him. Meg simply marched forwards, because if she knew her mother (and she did), she knew she’d set up shop closest to the stage where her father would be talking later that evening.

Tom spotted them before they did him.

“Meg!” he called out and then frowned when he realized who was by her side. Just like Cas, he was wearing a tux, but his had a red jacket because of course the TV star couldn’t just look like anybody. “Do you ever take a free night?”

“This is my free night, technically,” Castiel replied.

“And you still chose to come here?” Tom tilted his head. “Why?”

“Your sister asked me to.”

“O… kay,” Tom muttered. He clearly didn’t think that was a good enough reason to be there and frankly, Meg couldn’t blame him. “Come this way.”

Castiel moved a chair for her and then followed one of the waiters.

“Where are mom and dad?” Meg asked Tom.

Her brother, who was still looking in Castiel’s direction as if he was some sort of apparition, took a moment to register the question as directed towards him.

“Umh… they must be around here somewhere, greeting people… I’m sorry, he is your plus one?” he asked, incredulous. “Mom’s been trying to get me to interrogate you about this supposed secret boyfriend you had and it’s the bodyguard dude?”

“She tried to do what?” Meg asked, though she didn’t really know why this surprised her.

“Are you sure you’re not dating this guy for real?”

Meg was saved from having to answer that embarrassing question by Lilith, who came on, kissed her on both cheeks and started asking about her “plus one”. A second later, Castiel reappeared with two flutes of champagne.

“These seem to be in high demand,” he commented, as he handed one to Meg. “Hello, Mrs. Masters.”

Lilith stared at him with the same incredulity as Tom.

“Captain Milton,” she said in the end, offering him her hand. “It’s, uh… it’s good to see you again.”

She didn’t have much time for anything, because Congressman So-And-So and his wife arrived and Lilith had to go play the gracious host. So Meg could just sit next to Castiel and drink and eat for a while without anyone bothering them. Castiel was a little star-struck or maybe he was just struck.

“That’s… that… that man from the… the computer company,” he said, pointing at a guy with glasses who was talking to Tom on the other end of the room.

“Yeah, I’m sure he has a name but I can’t remember it either,” Meg said, shrugging and signaling a waiter to bring them more canapés.

“And that… that’s… I don’t know his name either, but I’ve seen him on TV,” Castiel said.

“Listen, most people here are or quasi famous. Like, you know you know them somewhere and they probably hold the entire destiny of the country in their hands, but you couldn’t pick them out in a police lineup,” Meg explained. “The only people here who the layman would recognize are Tom and…”

There was a commotion at the door. Suddenly, the two dozen or so people who were present all turned around as several guys in cheap black suits with ear pieces walked inside.

A second later, Jefferson Rooney walked inside. Meg spotted her father crossing the room along with the half a dozen professional photographers and the one or two guys with press passes. Azazel and the President shook hands very slowly as the cameras flashed all around them.

Castiel blinked several times.

“That’s… that’s the President,” he stated in a flat tone of voice. It sounded like this was such a surreal experience for him that he was expecting for someone to tell him he was seeing wrong.

“Yes,” Meg confirmed. “Dad and him are longtime buddies. Dad endorsed his run and everything.”

“Oh.”

Meg chuckled as his bafflement and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You wanna go say hi to him?”

“Umh… not really. To be quite honest, I didn’t vote for him.”

Meg looked around, but there was no one close who could possibly be eavesdropping on their conversation, since the President was soaking up all the attention. She still leaned closer to Castiel and lowered her voice before confessing:

“Me neither.”

Castiel whipped his head towards her. The disbelief in his face slowly turned into amusement, and then into a barely contained chuckle. Meg threw her head back and let out a laugh and that was all Castiel really needed to the same thing. Soon they were both laughing like idiots, but nobody really noticed. Because nobody cared about them when people were returning to their tables and the President was taking the stage.

“Thank you, thank you, everybody. Please, sit down…”

What followed was a twenty minutes long speech about what a great guy Azazel Masters was, about how long he’d been serving their state and how he should continue to do it until the day he died, apparently.

“Oh, my God, I’m starving,” Meg whispered to Castiel. “Do we have to listen to this guy before we have dinner?”

Castiel covered his mouth with a napkin and pretended to cough, but the way his eyes shone made Meg feel satisfied. She’d just discovered something else about herself and that was, she loved to make Castiel laugh. He always seemed so serious and intense about everything than to watch him just relax for once was magical.

“… my personal friend, Senator Masters!”

People around the room clapped as Azazel took the stage. He shook Rooney’s hand and stepped up to the podium.

“Thank you, everyone! But a special thanks to my family: my beautiful wife and my children, who are here supporting me today…”

Meg only half-listened to the speech, just because she already knew the gist of it: he was running for another term next year, he was hoping to defend family values and the country, yadda, yadda, would all those presents be so kind to sign him a check? That was a funny thought. She archived it to tell to Castiel later.

“… thank you again for your presence, and please, enjoy your meal!”

Meg clapped automatically with the rest of the guests. She only really wanted to have some food and maybe a little more champagne…

And then it dawned on her that the President was the guest of honor, so of course he was going to sit down at their own table.

“Mr. President, you remember my son Thomas and my daughter Marjorie,” Azazel said. Meg suppressed a grimace when she stood up to shake his hand.

“Of course. How you’ve been?”

“Very well, thank you,” Meg said, forcing out a smile.

“And this is Captain Milton, a friend of the family.”

Meg had no idea who’d told her father about Castiel being there, but he didn’t bat an eye when saying that. Tom wasn’t the only great actor in the family.

“Sir. An honor to meet you,” Castiel said, doing a salute with a complete deadpan expression that could’ve passed for respect for anyone who didn’t know him well enough.

“The honor’s all mine, Captain,” Rooney said, offering his hand to shake. “And may I just say, thank you for your service.”

Castiel sat back down, his hands balled up into fists over his knees. While Azazel took the President away to greet some other people, Meg leaned over to him.

“Did you want to punch him in the face just now?”

“I would have,” Castiel admitted. “But I didn’t feel like getting tackled by the Secret Service.”

Meg was ever so glad she brought him along.

* * *

The best part of the dinner, just as Meg had predicted, were the canapés. The rest of it was edible, but she had eaten tastier stuff from one of Castiel’s plastic containers on any given Thursday night. She couldn’t wait for Castiel to rip it to shreds Ramsay Gordon style.

The conversation around the table was just as flavorless as the food, which was just as well. Meg had plenty of chances to lean over towards Castiel and comment something funny that had just occurred to her. Castiel hid his smile behind a napkin or coughed so discreetly she was sure someone was going to ask him if he wanted a mint sooner or later.

Despite her dislike for Rooney, she was glad he was on their table, because then no one could ask why she’d chosen to bring Castiel. And she knew her mother wanted to, because she kept casting glances in their direction. In one occasion, when Meg excused herself to the bathroom, she was absolutely sure that Lilith was going to follow her and corner her, but she must have caught up with something.

After dessert, the President excuse himself and Meg knew right away that was also their cue to leave, because now he wasn’t there, it meant Lilith and Azazel could pay attention to them again.

“Excuse me, dad,” she said, standing up to go talk to him. “I’m really tired. Don’t get offended, but I think I’m going to go home…”

“You don’t have to go, darling.”

“I wish we could stay longer, but… uh…”

“We rented suites for everybody,” Azazel said before Meg could come up with an excuse. “You can stay to sleep here.”

“Please, honey?” Lilith requested, grabbing Meg’s hand. “I have a family breakfast planned for tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Well, fuck, they’d cornered her good. “I… I didn’t bring my overnight bag…”

“I can drive to your apartment and get anything you need for you,” Castiel offered.

Meg shot a warning look, but it was too late. Her parents had already reached two conclusions: that she was definitely sleeping with Castiel (why else would he so casually offer to go through her things?) and that she had no real excuse not to stay.

“Will you be joining us tomorrow morning, Captain?” Azazel asked, his eyes fixed on Castiel. Thank God he had nerves of steel and complete obliviousness to the implications of the question, because he just shrugged.

“If it’s a family breakfast, I don’t think that’ll be appropriate.”

“Fine, I’ll stay,” Meg said, because that was really the only way to end that conversation.

“Great. Ask Cecily for the card.”

“See you tomorrow, darling,” Lilith said and pointed at her cheek for Meg to kiss it.

They found Cecily by the bar, where she was having a drink and an apparently friendly conversation with Crowley, of all people. It made sense. They were both gremlins who lived of Azazel Masters’ generosity. Cecily fumbled with her purse, dropped it and practically jumped when Castiel leaned down to pick it up and handed it back to her.

“S-sorry. Here’s your card.”

“Have a good night, Meg,” Crowley said, looking at her over the edge of his whiskey glass.

Meg managed to keep her composure until the elevator’s door closed behind her.

“Holy shit, that was tedious!” she exclaimed.

“Tell me about it,” Castiel said. “I never would’ve thought meeting the President would be so… underwhelming.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have a beer with him?” Meg asked him, crooking an eyebrow.

“I have no idea what I could gain from doing that,” Castiel said. “Except to freak my sister out when I tell her about it. She would be very angry at me for not knowing what hard-hitting questions to ask.”

Despite the boredom, the humiliation and the interrogation she would for sure have to deal with in the morning, Meg had to laugh at that. And of course, that caused Castiel to laugh even harder. They probably looked more than a little crazy, laughing like children on that elevator, but Meg couldn’t bring herself to care.

She didn’t think it was possible to feel such a joy just for having someone who shared her opinion about what a bore those dinner parties were. Not even Sam had done that; he’d always seem to fit right in among that crowd, always charming and proper around anybody. She certainly couldn’t have joked with him about punching the president in the fucking face…

The doors opened on an empty hallway and they came out stumbling from it. Was she drunk? She had certainly had more than a few glasses of champagne, but dammit, since when was just champagne enough to make her anything but a little tipsy?

“Is this it?”

“Let’s see.”

Meg swiped the card through the reader and laughed again when the light turned green, granted them access. She wouldn’t have been able to tell why the hell that was funny, but it was.

“Oh, my God, look at this place,” she commented when they walked in.

More than a room, the suit looked like a small apartment. It had a King-sized bed, a plasma TV and a little hall with a chair and tables like she was going to receive a visitor there. She headed for the bathroom to check that it contained little bottles of shampoo, a fluffy robe, a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste.

“I think I’m settled,” she commented. “I still don’t have a nightgown, but I guess I can sleep naked.”

Castiel startled at her words. He was standing in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets like he didn’t quite know what to with himself. The fact he looked so embarrassed at the mere mention of nudity made Meg giggle again. She kicked off her shoes (and God, even though she’d chosen very short heels, that was an incredible relief) and walked towards him.

“Yes, but, uh… you’re still going to need clothes to wear tomorrow, at the… the breakfast,” he reminded her.

“Why can’t I just waltz in there with just the robe?” Meg asked, rolling her eyes.

“And your meds,” Castiel said, ignoring her words even though the redness in his cheek creeped down his neck as well.

“Right, the meds.” Meg rolled her eyes and stepped even closer to Castiel.

She didn’t know what she was going to do. She didn’t know what she was thinking. She wasn’t thinking, except on the fact that she was feeling really well right at that moment. And Castiel was there, looking unbearably handsome in that tux, his eyes smoldering on her even though he was doing everything in his power to keep his expression neutral…

“Should you… do you want to write down what you need me to bring you?” he offered.

“Yes. That’s a good idea,” Meg said, but she didn’t move to look for a pen and paper. Instead, she took another step and now she was standing face to face with him, so close she could feel the hot radiating from her body, she could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed.

“Meg… I…”

She didn’t want to hear what he wanted to say right then. Maybe that was why she put her hand on the back of his head and pulled him down. Castiel didn’t resist her at all. His eyes were fluttering close even before their lips met.

And then Meg could stop wondering what she was thinking, because she wasn’t thinking at all. She was lost in him, in the strong arms that held her tight. He was solid and warm and maybe that was all that Meg really needed right then. Maybe she could think about the scary parts later, but when he reached for the bobby pins that held her hairdo in place and started taking them out and letting them drop to the carpet one by one, when she placed her hands under his jacket and started pushing it back, when his mouth open and she slid her tongue inside it, tasting and exploring… it felt right.

It felt like she should have been doing this for a long, long time.

Her hair fell free over her shoulders and Castiel tangled his fingers on it. Meg’s legs tremble, her entire body was shaking, in fact. With excitement, with an anticipation that she hadn’t felt in years…

He broke apart for her, breathing heavily. His eyes were dark and full of interrogations she didn’t want to answer right then.

“Meg…” he started.

Meg heard a loud bang somewhere and barely had time to wonder why the hell were there fireworks outside when Castiel tackled her to the ground.

She landed on her back with a groan of pain, as Castiel’s body covered her completely. Glass broke somewhere, the din impossible to ignore, and a woman screamed. Meg’s alcohol and lust impaired brain finally started catching up to the fact that something was wrong. Castiel’s expression was alarmed; his eyes were moving around the room like he was looking for something to barricade the door with.

But then the woman screamed again, loud and high-pitched and Meg recognized it.

“Cas!” she shouted. “Cas, that’s my mother!”

Castiel gritted his teeth. He was clearly reluctant to let her stand up, but in the end he did so and grabbed her hand.

“Stand behind me,” he said, as he went to the door and opened it.

The first thing Meg saw managed to sober her up better than an ice bucket dumped in her head. The walls and floor were splattered with blood and sprinkled with broken glass. There were two men in black tuxedos lying on the ground, one of them with his back against the wall his arms lax at the sides and his head turned in a strange angle.

The other one was her father.

Lilith screamed again, because that was the only thing she seemed to be able to do, scream and scream and scream…

Meg hadn’t worked in an ER since she’d finished her residency, but she found the same instincts she she’d developed during those long, terrible nights were kicking in now, instincts that told her to stop thinking and _act_. She grabbed her mother by the shoulder and slapped her twice across the twice.

“Call 911!” she instructed as she knelt down. Goddammit, her dress was so uncomfortable to move in, why the hell hadn’t she chosen something lighter?

Every cell in her body told her that she needed to look at her father first, but the other guy (one of her dad’s bodyguards, she recognized him) was bleeding out faster and…

He was already dead, she realized as she took one look at his head. He had been shot clean through the skull and there was nothing she could do for him.

“My husband’s been shot! He needs… he needs help, please!” Lilith was screaming on the phone behind her.

Meg ripped opened Azazel’s jacket and shirt, which was quickly soaking in red, her eyes looking desperately for the wound until she found it: a big chunk of his upper bicep had been ripped. It looked gruesome, but it didn’t seem dangerous for his life at all.

She almost started crying, until she realized that her father was awake. His strange yellow eyes were wide open, and his lips were pale. Meg quickly looked for his pulse on his neck. It was agitated, of course, but it didn’t seem irregular.

There were more people shouting on the hallway and Lilith was crying. Someone was by her side, a strong hand on her shoulder.

“Meg…” Castiel’s voice called her.

“I need towels,” she told him. “I need to make a tourniquet.”

Castiel nodded and disappeared somewhere to her left. Meg centered her attention back on her father.

“Hey, dad, good news,” she told him. “You’re going to live.”

“Am I?” Azazel blinked several times and winced, though Meg couldn’t discard he had been trying to smile. “Oh, good.”

“Yeah.” Meg forced herself to keep calm and smile at him. “Aren’t you glad you paid for my med school?”


	11. Chapter 11

The following hours after he first heard the shots were a flurry of activity that Castiel had trouble recollecting later. He remembered helping Meg sit her father straight and watch her as he did a tourniquet, he remembered helping Tom take her mother into the hotel room, sit her down in the bed and insisting she drink some water. The paramedics were there in seven minutes, but by then the wound on the senator’s shoulders had stopped bleeding and all they could really do for him was stitch him up and give him some painkillers.

His bodyguard wasn’t so lucky.

The paramedics mounted his body on a stretcher and covered him with a blanket. Castiel watched them standing on the door's room where the Masters family had huddled together. He felt strangely cold. He had been in situations where his life had been in danger before, and where it hadn't been, but it felt like it. He'd hated that feeling of impotence, of deep fear that drilled into him and clung to his bones and his organs. He hated April for taking the calm, simple life he'd tried to build for him.

But, strangely, he knew that if it had been him in that hallway, he wouldn't have hesitated to jump in front of Meg.

The elevators' doors opened, and the paramedics pushed the stretcher in as Agent Victor Henriksen came stumbling out. He eyed the bloody hallway and the detectives and police officers taking samplings and photographs before he spotted Castiel and headed directly towards him.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked after shaking his hand, as if this was a simple business meeting and there hadn't been a dead man on the hallway a second before.

"That's what I've been trying to find out, but the Senator... he's a bit a shaken," Castiel said. "He wanted to wait until tomorrow to call you."

Henriksen frowned and Castiel was glad to discover he wasn't the only one who found that attitude a little bit strange.

"I will be fine, don't worry about it!" Senator Masters' voice came from the inside. "I need to call Bernard's family, tell them what happened..."

"I will take care of that if you want, Senator," Agent Henriksen offered, stepping inside of the room.

Senator Masters was sitting on the bed, refusing whatever additional treatment the paramedic was offering in a way that reminded Castiel of Meg getting dressed and leaving the hospital to deal with a concussion at home alone. He cast him a glance and for a second or two, Castiel thought he looked... annoyed. Like the agent's presence there was somehow inconvenient to him.

"Agent. As you can see, my wife is very upset about all of this, I don't think this is the right time..."

"I want to talk to him!" Lilith interrupted him from the other side of the room, where Meg and Tom were both standing with her. "If there's anything that can help hide that... that... that monster!"

Henriksen didn't have to be told twice. He pulled out his notepad from the inside of his jacket and stood in front of Lilith.

"Please, tell me all that you remember, Mrs. Masters."

"We were... after the President left, people started leaving as well. We said goodbye to them, and we came up. We were talking about..." She stopped, quickly glanced at Meg and then shook her head. "I don't remember. But we turned around to head to our suit and suddenly this person jumped out from the corner..."

"Did you see anything that was distinctive, anything that would help us identify it?"

Lilith shook her head. Her blonde curls, that had been so perfectly styled for the night, now looked a mess after she'd run her hand through her hair so many times.

"He was... he was wearing all black and had a ski mask... he pointed at me, but Bernard shoved me out of the way, and he..."

She choked on her words and Tom quickly stood up and disappeared inside of the bathroom.

"Take your time, Mrs. Masters," Agent Henriksen requested.

"He had this small, black gun and... shot twice and I saw my husband fell," Lilith continued. "That's when I screamed, and Meg and Captain Milton came running out of their suite..."

"I saw the criminal," Castiel said. "He was slim and short, 5’4 or maybe 5’5. He did have a ski mask, and he wore sports clothing. I chased him to the stairs."

"You did?" Meg asked, surprised. Of course, she wouldn't have noticed, as she had been too busy checking on her father.

Tom came back from the bathroom and handed Lilith a few strips of toilet paper that she used to blow her nose.

"He was quick, and I didn't want to leave the Senator and his family alone," Castiel continued. “I came back almost immediately."

"Cas, what the hell?" Meg asked, shaking her head. "He could have shot you too!"

She sounded almost angry as she said this. Almost like she'd completely forgotten that the possibility of getting shot protecting her was part of his job description.

“It’s my job to protect you…”

“You weren’t here as my bodyguard tonight!” she shouted as she jumped up from her seat.

Her anger surprised Castiel.

He wanted to explain to her that even if he had been free from his duty that night, he still would have chosen to protect her. He wanted to explain that his instincts had told him that the perpetrator had done what he'd come to do and he was fleeing, he wasn't going to turn back and shoot him as well, but he had a chance to knock him down and catch him before he disappeared. More than anything, he wanted to cross the state that separate them and take her in his arms, hug her close because he knew her well enough by then to realize that her anger was a mask for something else.

She was frightened. And it wasn't a fear she was familiar with, like he was. He wanted to put aside his own fear and console her...

He didn't have time to say or do any of that, because the door burst open and two more people walk inside of the room.

"Senator!" exclaimed a shrill, loud voice and Cecily's small figured crossed the room like a ghost. She was crying and she stopped short of putting a hand on her boss' shoulder.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Crowley asked, looking around with his eyes practically jumping of his sockets.

"I'm fine. It's just a superficial wound," Senator Masters clarified, with amazing aplomb for a man that had just been shot. He put his shirt back on and buttoned it up as if that could make everyone forget about the bandages around his arm. It was impossible when the shirt itself was soaked in blood. "Please, Fergus..."

Mr. Crowley took Cecily by the shoulders and dragged her away a little bit towards the door.

"Senator Masters, if you don't mind..." Agent Henriksen started saying.

"I do mind, agent," Senator Masters replied, standing up suddenly. "A good man died trying to protect me, I am wounded, my family..."

"Precisely, sir, this concerns your family," Henriksen said. "First your daughter is attacked, now the perp shot at your wife..."

"I was shot too!" Senator Masters replied, pointing at his shoulder.

What a strange thing to protest. Was he really concerned about who had been shot how many times?

"I no longer believe this is politically motivated," Henriksen said. "A number of other officials were here tonight, including the President himself. The perp could have aimed at any of them, but he is fixated on you. He was smart, he waited until the most important man on the room went away and you were left with little security around yourself. And I don't think he meant to shoot you. He was at such close range that if he'd wanted to kill you, he wouldn't have had much trouble doing so."

The senator's face went red and then pale as the meaning of Henriksen's words dawned on him. Castiel guessed exactly what the agent was going to say right before he continued speaking:

"The perp has a personal vendetta against you, and is trying to hurt your family rather than you."

"What? But..." Senator Masters began protesting. "That is... it's not possible. All the enemies I've made have been through my political actions..."

"Well, think harder. Is there anybody who would want to hurt your family, in particular, for any reason?"

Senator Masters' eyes travelled to his wife and children, then at his campaign manager and secretary (who was still sobbing softly) and finally back to Agent Henriksen.

"I can't think of an answer," he concluded in the end, sitting back down on the table.

Castiel's gut indicated him he was lying, but then again, maybe his gut wasn't the most trustworthy thing right then.

"Very well," Agent Henriksen said. He also didn't seem convinced by this declaration. He closed his notepad. "I have to make some calls and interrogate more witnesses, look at the security cam footage. I will keep you inform of any new information we find. In the meantime, I would suggest you cancel all future public events and move your family to a more secure location. One that people don’t know about."

"Yes." All the energy seemed to have abandoned Senator Masters, leaving behind a very tired man who spoke almost without thinking about his words. "Thank you, Agent Henriksen."

Henriksen nodded at him and turned to leave the room.

Tom was the first person to speak.

"Holy shit, and I thought _my_ stalkers were scary."

No one laughed. Not because it wasn't funny, but because no one seemed to be in any particular laughing mood.

“Az…” Lilith started.

“Agent Henriksen is right,” the Senator interrupted her. “Cecily, cancel everything in my schedule. Fergus…”

“I will call all your contributors. Don’t worry. Do you want me to call poor Bernard’s family as well?”

Azazel shook his head.

“I’ll do it myself.” He turned his attention towards his family. “You heard the man. We need to get out of town for a few days. I know your work is important, Meg…”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Meg groaned, but by the way she’d opened her mouth, Castiel deduced that wasn’t entirely true.

“I was going to leave anyway,” Tom said. “I have to be back in LA for some reshoots.”

“Very well.” Azazel nodded. “Lilith and I will arrange for something. Maybe a trip somewhere, with a security detail, of course. In the meantime, I don’t want you going back to your apartment, Meg.”

“Where else am I going to go?” Meg asked.

Castiel knew immediately that she was going to refuse to go home with her parents. And even though perhaps that was the smartest thing to do under those circumstances… well, for someone as smart as Meg, her stubbornness could make her unbearably stupid.

“If I may, sir,” he said, stepping closer. “My aunt has a farm outside of town. It’s an isolated location, hard to reach unless one knows how to find it. Perhaps it would be better for Meg… Doctor Masters,” he corrected himself quickly and hoped no one else how noticed the familiarity in the way he’d pronounced her name. “If I take her there while Agent Henriksen finishes his investigation and you and your wife plan this trip.”

“I like that plan,” Meg added immediately. “Let’s do that.”

Azazel didn’t seem convinced.

“I would like to add extra security. Not that I don’t trust that you’re incredibly capable, Captain,” he said, as if Castiel was going to take offense at that. “But I would be calmer knowing there’s more than one man looking out for my baby girl.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Take her home so she can change and pick up whatever she needs,” the Senator continued. “You can call your aunt and give us the location. I will send some other men later in the day.”

“Very well, sir.”

“And, Captain…” he added when Meg stood up and they were both about to head for the door. He approached them and shook Castiel’s hand. “Thank you. For what you did for her.”

Castiel had no idea what he meant. He’d failed twice to protect her already. But he accepted the shake and after Meg said goodbye to her family, he followed her out to the elevator.

“How are you?” he asked her.

“I’m fine,” she said. But she was pale and the way she started talking so fast indicated that she was anything but: “Honestly, it was nothing. The worst part of it all is that I’m not going to be able to return the damn dress.” She pointed at it and Castiel noticed the bloodstains on the chest and skirt. “I’ve seen much worse in the ER.”

“You never saw your father in the ER,” he pointed out.

Meg slowly turned towards him. the edge of her eyes were brimming with tears she was trying to hold back. And he understood that the worst thing he could have done at that exact moment would’ve been to try to get her to open up or to talk to her through her fear.

He took out his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Meg looked up at him, swallowing as she did, as if she was expecting him to do or say something else. Instead, Castiel just put a hand on her cheek.

“Aunt Amara is going to be happy to see us back so soon,” he promised her.

Meg let out a humorless chuckle.

“Aren’t we lucky?”

She then sank her face on his neck and squeezed his hand tight. It was like she needed the reassurance that Castiel was there with her.

And he was more than happy to give it to her.

* * *

It turned out Aunt Amara and her husband weren’t even at home. They weren’t even in the state.

“It’s the Annual Beekeepers Convention,” she said when Castiel called her up.

“The ABC,” Castiel repeated, a little incredulous. He didn’t know whether to slap or to congratulate whoever had come up with that.

“We won’t be home until Monday,” Amara continued. In the background, Castiel could hear Cain groaning and complaining about his call waking them up at four thirty in the morning and asking if it was _really_ an emergency. “But of course, you’re more than welcome to stay there. You know where the spare key is. You and Meg can stay in the blue room.”

Anna wasn’t as nearly as understanding or as patient as Amara.

“Are you kidding me right now?!” she shouted in Castiel’s year. “Cas, people are saying all sorts of things. I need you to at least confirm some of them.”

“I can’t do that, Anna. You know this. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, just… tell me something. Senator Masters isn’t dead, is he?”

Castiel hadn’t had time to turn on the TV or check the news on his phone, but he found it hard to believe that someone could have got the news this wrong.

“No, he isn’t dead. He was wounded and he needed medical attention, but he isn’t dead.”

“Awesome. And do you have any idea who might have done this?”

It took a couple of seconds for Castiel to catch on to the fact that he was being interviewed.

“I have no comments. My job is only to care for Doctor Masters.”

“Come on, Cas! I’ll keep you anonymous!”

“Would you get off my back if I gave you the number of the FBI agent in charge of the investigation?”

“Not only will I get off your back, I’ll stay off it for the next two or three years.”

Castiel knew this meant she would be back on his back in a week. He still took a picture of Agent Henriksen’s card and sent it to Anna. He was absolutely certain the man would tell her nothing, but she was welcome to try.

“Now if you excuse me, Anna…”

“Cas,” she said, and her tone had changed. It was softer and somehow, kinder: “You’re not in danger, right? Like… this maniac is after the Senator and not his daughter, right?”

Castiel didn’t tell her about Agent Henriksen’s suspicions. They wouldn’t help anybody.

“It’ll be okay,” he assured her. He heard the door of Meg’s room opening behind him. “I have to go.”

In the time it’d taken him to finish his calls, Meg had taken off her dress, showered and dressed up with a simple pair of jeans and a white blouse. She hadn’t bothered reapplying her make-up, so her face looked slightly pale and there were dark circles underneath her eyes from having stayed up all night. Her hair was puffy, like she’d brushed quickly and not particularly cared about how it’d look afterwards.

“I’m ready,” she announced with a tired voice. “Are you sure your aunt is going to mind we go crash with her?”

Castiel reassured her it’d be okay, texted the address to Cecily so she could give it to the Senator’s security detail and grabbed Meg’s carry-on suitcase for her. It was a testament to how exhausted she must have been that she didn’t protest at all.

“What about you?”

He figured he must have looked a bit ridiculous with his dress slacks and undone bowtie, but he really didn’t have time to go home and change.

“Cain is about the same size as me,” Castiel replied, shrugging. “And I don’t weigh much more.”

Meg nodded as if that made sense.

“I already called Agent Henriksen and your father and told them we’re on the way,” Castiel said. “The additional security detail should show up at the farm right after we arrive.”

“Good,” Meg said, absentminded as Castiel opened the door for her. “I just… I just need to sleep for a while.”

“Go ahead,” Castiel encouraged her.

“You’re not going to need me to take the wheel for you?”

“That’s okay. I’ll grab some coffee when we stop at the gas station.”

He didn’t know if it was the extra adrenaline he still had running though his veins or if his body had just effortlessly slid back into combat mode, where he needed to stay alert and awake no matter how exhausted he really felt. Either way, after a cup of the shittiest coffee in the entire state in the filthiest gas station by the road, he managed to drive the three hours to the farm without feeling like he needed to stop even once. It might have helped that the road was nearly empty, and no deer or foxes crossed in front of the car.

Meg slept all the way and he almost felt bad to have to shake her awake once they arrived.

“What? Already?” she asked, groggily.

Castiel found the spare key behind a flower pot on the porch and locked the door behind them. Usually, Amara wouldn’t have even bothered. The closest neighbor was miles away and the only people who knew that Meg and Castiel were there were their respective families and people they (or Senator Masters) trusted.

But he must have been still a little on edge. Or perhaps the caffeine was starting to wear off.

Or perhaps it was the fact that he was in there alone with Meg.

The night before, before all the madness went down, she…

He stopped his thoughts right there. Meg was sitting down on the couch, looking extremely exhausted and it wasn’t the right time for him to even be thinking about these things. He was dying to know what was going through her head the night before when she’d kissed him, but now was simply not the time.

He was beginning to wonder if there ever would be a right time.

“Do you want to go upstairs? I’ll show to the guest room.”

“Yeah.” Meg shook her head like a dog coming out of the water. “Yeah, okay. I’m right behind you.”

Meg had not been in the house’s second floor the last time they were there, so Castiel started babbling about how his aunt had bought the house, the bathroom and how the shower had a little trick to it.

“My aunt calls this the blue room. I guess it’s a bit self-explanatory.” He chuckled as he opened the door to a room that was decked in blue: from the wallpaper to the carpet, including the duvet on the bed. “I have no idea why she decided to do this, but…”

He left the carry-on next to the closet and realized he’d been talking alone for the past two minutes.

Meg was outside, standing next to the big window at the end of the hall. The sun was rising in the horizon, over the hills and trees that had started turning yellow and orange with the oncoming autumn. It was an impressive sight.

“Meg?” he called her out.

She slowly turned towards him and gave him a soft smile.

“It’s beautiful here. I understand why you like it.”

He stepped closer to her. Not too close, though. His defenses were definitely failing, because suddenly all he could think about was how he wanted to wrap his arms around her, brush her hair aside and kiss the spot where her neck met her shoulder…

He sank his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from doing anything of the sort.

“You should get some sleep.”

“How about you?”

“I’ll wait until the rest of the security gets here, then I’ll get a nap,” he said. “Don’t worry about me. Come to sleep.”

Meg gave no signs of having heard him, so he got a little closer to her.

“Meg…”

“Aren’t you tired of me?”

He said nothing, because he had no idea what to answer to that question.

“Of course not,” he said in the end. “I was hired to protect you…”

“I don’t mean that,” she replied and finally turned to face him. “I mean because of the way I keep acting around you. If you literally weren’t paid to stick around me all day, I think you would’ve kicked me to the curb already. Hell, I want to kick me half of the time.”

“What makes you say that?” Castiel asked, frowning.

“Come on.” Meg rolled her eyes. “Come _on_.”

It took him a second to understand she was talking… calling it a relationship would’ve been a bit too generous. Castiel had made it clear he had feelings for her, and she’d made it clear that she wasn’t looking for something like that right then.

And then she’d made it unclear by kissing him again the night before.

He really wasn’t going to bring it up, but since she’d had…

“It is… frustrating not knowing what goes through your mind before… you do any of the things you do,” he admitted. “But I understand why you act like this.”

“Do you?” Meg chuckled. “Can you explain it to me?”

Castiel wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not, but he tried anyway.

“It has taken you this long to truly let go of your relationship with Sam. You’re going through some major life changes, and so far, you mostly went through them alone. On top of that, you’re maddeningly stubborn and willing to prove that you don’t need anybody.”

Meg clicked her tongue and looked away, which indicated Castiel that he was correct in everything he was saying.

“You’re struggling with opening up to someone new. I am too. After what I went through with April, I am scared of being hurt again.” He stretched his hand and grabbed hers. “But I think… I have already decided that you’re worth that risk.”

“Why is that?”

Her eyes were wide as she asked this. She wasn’t looking for a compliment. She really couldn’t understand why Castiel would choose to stay with her despite her hesitations and walls. It was a bit heartbreaking that she couldn’t see it.

“Because everything you do, everything you decide is worth your attention and energy, you give yourself to it with such passion… I think it would be a privilege to be loved by someone like you.”

“Oh.” Meg closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, they were somehow clearer. “Okay. I think I just made up my mind about this.”

“Did you…?”

Instead of answering, she closed the short distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. Castiel closed his eyes, taking in the electric feeling he always got when she was close, taking in the taste of her lips and the curves of her body against him. The desire and the warmth he’d grown used to were there, but there was another feeling this time as well.

One of relief, of calm and acceptance.

She wasn’t backing away this time.

He held her tight against himself. She was limp and soft in his arms for a second, before she grabbed unto him and bit his lower lip. A shiver of pleasure went down his spine and he groaned as she slid her hands down and reached for the buttons of his shirt.

He broke away, panting.

“Meg…”

“Where’s that bedroom you wanted to show me?” she asked, a mischievous smile appearing on her lips.

Castiel wanted so bad to rip off her clothes right then and there, but he still had to ask:

“Are you sure? We don’t have to… move so fast…”

“Cas.” She put a hand on his cheek and softly made him look at her. “I haven’t been so sure about anything in a while. So just… take me to bed?”

Well, how was he supposed to argue with that?

He leaned over and literally swooped her off her feet. Meg yelled in surprise and then laughed as he carried her towards the door.

“I feel like I should start singing a Whitney Houston song right now,” she commented.

Castiel stopped and looked at her with a frown.

“Oh, never mind,” she said, planting a peck on the edge of his lips. “Just keep going.”

He was more than happy to oblige. He delicately laid her down on the bed and kissed her, over and over: her lips, her chin, her neck, the top of her breasts once her blouse came undone. Meg’s fingers slide down his chest and then grabbed unto his shoulders, squeezing them when Castiel’s mouth found a sensitive spot.

Her moan of delight sent a shot of electricity down his back. He stopped nibbling at her skin to look at her face thrown back, her lips parted in ecstasy. He enjoyed this immensely, watching her writhe and come undone in his arms… they’d been holding back what they’d both wanted before, but now…

He froze and Meg opened her eyes. She softly caressed his cheek, her thumb passing across his lips.

“What are you thinking right now?”

“I should have bought condoms in the last gas station we passed.”

It was probably not the most exciting thing to say when they were in bed half undressed, but Meg burst into laughter anyway.

“Oh, now, that’s a very romantic thought.”

Castiel slid one of the straps of her bra down so he could kiss her shoulder before placing his mouth to her ear.

“I love you.”

It was Meg’s turn to go stiff. Her eyes grew wide as he turned to him and Castiel thought he saw just the barest glimpse of… something in them. Fear, surprise? Should she really be surprised at this?

“You don’t have to say it back right now,” he said, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face. “It’s okay if you don’t know if you feel the same way right now. But I know. I’m sure. And I wanted you to know that.”

“Goddammit, Cas,” she mumbled, but she didn’t sound angry as she pulled him down to kiss him again.


	12. Chapter 12

Meg couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so well. The mattress in the blue room was in that perfect spot between firm and soft, the curtains didn’t let a single ray of sunshine through, and she could zap all the body heat she needed just by rolling over and nuzzling Castiel’s neck. His soft snores were like purrs in her ears and she loved the way he lazily placed a hand around her waist to bring her even closer.

It was adorable to watch him trying to stay awake.

“We need to be… the other security detail…” he’d mumbled as he slowly sank his face in the pillow.

“I’m sure they can find their way here,” Meg had insisted, lazily laying her head on top of her chest. “We’ll hear their cars coming up the driveway, won’t we?”

She didn’t tell him the real reason she didn’t want him to get up was that she didn’t want him to stop cuddling her. It was so comfortable to just stay there with him, she felt so deliciously tired and invigorated at the same time… she didn’t want their first night… morning… random day nap together to end.

She’d convinced him in the end. She’d spent a long time staring at his face after he’d fallen asleep. He always looked so serious and intense when he was awake, but asleep, he looked positively adorable. Like all the cares, all the weight he carried with himself simply melted away. She could count the little wrinkles around his eyes, rub her hand down his cheeks covered in stubble.

He’d said it would be a privilege to be love by someone like her. Well, she couldn’t even begin to describe what it was like to be loved by someone as patient and kind as him.

Nothing like a traumatic event to get one’s true feelings floating to the surface, huh?

She’d tried to stay awake to wake him if he heard the other guys, but it turned out that a three-hours car nap wasn’t enough to compensate for all the emotional and physical exhaustion from the night before. She slumbered on top of him for what felt like an eternity and not enough time.

Then he woke up with a start.

“What time is it?” he murmured.

Meg groaned and rolled over herself to check her cellphone. There no missed calls or frantic emails from anyone, so she took it as a good sign.

“Almost noon. Damn.”

She could have easily slept or… done other activities in bed for the rest of the day, but Castiel was already shoving the sheets aside and searching for his discarded clothes on the floor.

“That can’t be right,” he said, fishing out his own phone out of his pocket. “Do you think they got lost on the way here?”

“Oh, my God, who cares?” Meg groaned, sitting up and purposefully letting the covers slid off her body. “Let’s just enjoy whatever time we have until a bunch of random strangers show up to interrupt us.”

His gaze travelled down her curves and Meg smiled with satisfaction. She was never going to get tired of him wanting her like that.

But damn his self-control.

“We should find out what happened,” he said, averting his eyes.

Meg groaned and sank back down on the pillows. “You’re no fun.”

To her disappointment, he opened the closet and fished out a pair of washed out jeans anyway.

“We’ll have time to do anything we want later,” he promised her, as he got dressed. “All the time in the world.”

That sounded amazing and despite her disappointment, Meg still smiled when he walked around the bed and left a kiss on her shoulder.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll deal with this.”

Meg wanted to, and she tried, but she felt annoyingly energized. She just couldn’t stay in bed knowing that she had an entire day ahead of her. She had to do something.

So as soon as Castiel was out of the room with his phone, she pulled her carry-on closer and rummaged through it until she found a simple sundress she could wear without a bra. She had packed it precisely because it was easy to put on and take off. And it wasn’t like she’d been planning to end up in bed with Castiel… but if she was being honest, a part of her had been planning that since the previous night. There was no point in denying that any longer.

Her muscles ached like she’d had a particularly strenuous session of yoga and she knew it was only going to get worse as the day went on. She looked at the cane she’d brought along with a little bit of apprehension. She wasn’t sure she was going to use it, but then again… she needed to lean on something to move that day.

She’d been postponing it for a long time.

She was about to give up halfway down the stairs and go back to bed, but she heard Castiel’s voice coming from the living room and she pressed on.

“… no, I am certain I gave Cecily the correct address. I really don’t mean to bother you… she’s not answering her phone?”

Meg slipped past him without paying much attention to his conversation. She hadn’t been to the kitchen the last time they’d been there, but she remembered which door Amara had come from carrying one of the most wonderful honey cakes Meg had tried in her entire life. She’d discovered then that keeping people fed and insisting they ate wasn’t just a Castiel thing. Apparently, his entire family was like that.

Well, she could definitely try to speak his language as well. Her food wasn’t going to be as great as his, of course, but she was starving and making a brunch for him after everything he’d done was the least she could do.

She turned on the coffee maker and found the eggs and milk inside of the fridge. There was no fridge, but she did locate some blueberries and strawberries. They didn’t seem to have maple syrup, but she could try her hand at pancakes.

Castiel’s voice still droned on in the living room.

“Alright. Very well. Yes, I will call you as soon as we know anything. Goodbye, senator.”

He stalked into the kitchen and gave her a quizzical look. If he saw the cane that Meg had left leaning against the counter, he made no comment on it.

“What are you doing?”

“What did my dad say?” Meg asked instead, because if he couldn’t see the answer for himself…

“Apparently, not only did Cecily not call the extra security detail, she’s also not answering her phone right now,” Castiel explained. “Do you need help with that?”

“No. You sit right there!” Meg said, pointing at him with the mixer. “It’s my turn to cook something for you.”

Castiel couldn’t hide the smile in his face. He tried to. He was so adorable Meg felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She kissed him on the cheek, but when he tried to lasso his arms around her, she playfully pushed him away and jabbed a finger into his arm.

“You were the one who wanted us to get up, now deal with it.”

He accepted this by throwing his hands in the air and went to sit just like Meg had ordered him to.

“Anyway, Senator Masters sounded very worried about Cecily’s lack of response,” he commented as he pulled a chair away. “He said she is usually very diligent in everything he asks her to do.”

“Of course she is,” Meg said. She didn’t mean to huff, but just thinking of Cecily’s chirpy little voice made her annoyed. “So diligent my mom thought dad was sleeping with her.”

This revelation seemed to be enough for Castiel to stare at her with his eyebrows shot up bright.

“Were they?” he asked.

“The hell would I know?” Meg replied. She really didn’t want to talk about Cecily or her father or them doing anything together when not fifteen minutes ago she’d just been so happy sleeping with Castiel’s arms wrapped around her. “That’s not the kind of conversation you can just have with a parent, is it? ‘_Hey, dad, are you by any chance fucking your secretary?’_”

“I didn’t mean…” He interrupted himself and then tried again: “All I meant is that I would be a bit shaken if I found my father was… doing something like that.”

That was a very good question. While pondering on it, Meg turned on the stove, put the pan over it and let a generous piece of butter fall on it.

“I know my dad isn’t a saint, but…” She shook her head. She wasn’t even sure how to explain what she was trying to say. “I’ve been aware that they have issues since I was sixteen. It’s kind of a funny story.”

Castiel tilted his head and Meg took this as an indication that he was interested in hearing it.

“I wasn’t supposed to be home that night, I was going to a friend’s house for a sleepover,” she started telling him. “The sleepover was actually a cover-up to go to a party where an older guy I had a crush on was going to be. I don’t even remember his name now, but when we got there and he had his tongue down the throat of some other girl and it felt like the end of the fucking world. So, I called a taxi and went home, all brokenhearted and dramatic. Didn’t even tell my friends I was leaving.”

“I can’t imagine you doing something like that,” Castiel said and Meg took it as a compliment.

“If I had been a few years older and under Ruby’s bad influence, I would have stayed, drunk, danced on a table and made a complete fool of myself,” she admitted, as she poured the mix on the pan. “Anyway, I sneaked back in through the back door and I heard the both of them screaming. I was so sure I’d been busted, but they were having this terrible fight…”

She turned the pancake over with a spatula. The story wasn’t as fun now that she was telling it, but she should get to the end of it.

“I had never heard them argue like that. I’ve noticed that they were sometimes passive-aggressive or outright ignored each other, but they didn’t usually fight. It was… quite a shock.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“Dad was… I think he was a bit drunk. He was accusing mom of having slept with Crowley, of all people.” Meg grimaced at the memory. “And how he was going to make sure that I never saw her again and she didn’t get a penny and whatnot. Mom kept denying over and over that she’d done it. I heard the whole thing because to get to my room I had to cross the living room and get to the stairs. They were so into the fight, though, that I could have walked past them naked with a rose between my teeth and they either wouldn’t have noticed or told me to go to my room. And then eventually mom said: _‘Okay. I’ll stop.’_ And dad said: _‘That’s all I want.’_ And I just… I was shocked.”

She turned the pancake over again, and was glad to see that her little detour into the past hadn’t distracted her enough to burn it.

“To this day, I don’t know if mom was really having an affair with Crowley or if she was just saying that to get dad to stop yelling at her,” she concluded, putting the pancake on a plate.

“What do you think?”

Now, that was a loaded question.

“I think that it doesn’t matter if she was or not,” Meg said. “I think they were so miserable together already and continued being miserable for so many years that one of them stepping out on the other wouldn’t have substantially added to that misery.”

“Why would your father keep Crowley on his staff if he suspected he was having an affair with your mother, though?”

“You know, I’ve wondered the same thing many times. My best guess is that it’s some sort of weird power play that he has going.”

She poured some more mix on the hot pan and then laughed.

“I’m sorry, that story was kind of a bummer…”

“It’s fine,” Castiel replied. “I’m glad you trusted in me enough to tell me. It actually illustrates a lot about you.”

“Like what?” Meg asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Like how I can be sure you’ll tell me the moment you feel anything is wrong.”

Meg stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. It was still too early in their relationship for it to really be anything wrong with it, but yes. It was good to know this.

The fire escapes were perfectly visible, but she trusted she wasn’t going to be needing them in the near future.

She was about to comment something of the sort when a knock echoed through the house. They looked at each other, frowning. If Cecily hadn’t called the other security detail… or maybe they’d finally managed to communicate with her? Or maybe it was Castiel’s aunt coming back sooner, but if that was the case, why didn’t she used her key.

“I’ll go check who it is.”

“Make them go away,” Meg said, as she grabbed a knife and the bowl of strawberries. “Not sure there’s enough here for anyone but us.”

“That knife isn’t for fruit,” Castiel commented as he left the kitchen.

“Just go open the door, Mr. Chef!” Meg replied, teasingly.

When this whole thing was over (it had to be over soon, didn’t it? The guy had killed someone. The FBI had to be onto him), maybe she could help him out. She was sure her mother knew a person or another in some fancy restaurant or something, someone that would help out Castiel get back into what he really wanted to do.

“… Miss…”

“You can call me Cecily!” the chirpy annoying voice came from the living room. “There’s really no reason to be so formal, is there?”

What the hell was she doing there? Meg put the knife aside, grabbed her cane and moved towards the door. Castiel was still standing by the open door, as if he hadn’t had time to close it after Cecily had stormed in. Her father’s secretary stood in the middle of the living room, with her back turned to Meg and a hand inside of her purse, like she’d been searching for something inside it but had forgotten about it halfway through.

“What’s going on?” Castiel asked. “Why didn’t you…?”

“The security detail wasn’t necessary after all!” Cecily informed them. Meg couldn’t see her face, but she sounded even shriller than usual, like she was forcing herself to be extra happy that day. It was a bit disturbing. “The FBI is onto the person who did this.”

“Are they?”

“Yes,” Cecily assured him. “Agent Henriksen said he has all the pieces he needs for that.”

Something in Castiel’s posture changed. It was subtle, but Meg noticed it: his shoulders became tenser, his eyes narrowed at Cecily. He looked like a predator about to jump.

“That’s… very odd,” he commented. “Senator Masters said nothing about it when I talked to him earlier.”

“Oh.” Cecily sounded slightly surprised now. “Didn’t he?”

“No. In fact, he seemed to be more concerned about you…”

It happened so fast that Meg could only step back, her heart shooting up right to her throat.

Cecily had a gun in her hand, and she was pointing it at Castiel.

He remained very calm. He slowly put his hands up, his eyes fixed on Cecily. Nothing in either his expression or his posture betrayed exactly what was going through his mind.

“Cecily… what are you doing?” he asked, his tone flat, like Cecily was a child misbehaving instead of someone who was outright threatening his life.

“Look, I didn’t want it to come to this!” Cecily said. Now she was practically screaming. “I just wanted… I wanted him to be happy, you know? I wanted him to realize that I was the one who made him happy!”

“Him?” Castiel asked. “Senator Masters?”

Meg was paralyzed in her spot. Her phone was upstairs. Had Castiel left his on the table? Could she call 911 without giving away her presence? How long it would take them to get there?

“He said… he said we couldn’t see each other anymore, that it was wrong, that he had a duty to his family.” Cecily’s laughter was searing and more than a bit desperate. “What a fucking family! His children are a pair of ungrateful brats and his wife… oh, don’t even get me started on _her_.”

“It must have been hard for you.”

Why the hell was Castiel entertaining this psychopath?

It took Meg a second to realize that his eyes had moved slightly towards her. He was giving her time to get away.

Like she was going to do that without him.

“I didn’t want it to be like this!” Cecily said. Her voice began to break down and her hand was trembling slightly now. “I didn’t want to… really hurt anybody. I just wanted him to leave her.”

“Of course. You wanted him to do right by you,” Castiel said, still talking in that calm, collected tone of voice. His eyes grew slightly bigger when he realized Meg was moving, but he didn’t make any sudden movements.

“Was that too much to ask?!” Cecily screamed. “I could have made him so happy, I know I could!”

“I’m sure you could have, Cecily.”

Meg took another step. She looked down at her cane and then up at Castiel, hoping he would understand from those simple gestures exactly what she was planning on doing.

“You sent the threats to make him see that you were serious,” Castiel said. “But he just… he didn’t believe that you would really hurt his family.”

“He didn’t even realize it was me!” Cecily said. She sounded a little offended. She even scoffed. “He just said… he said… we just wanted to put pressure on them, that was all…”

“We?” Castiel tilted his head. “Who else?”

“He didn’t want me to come here.”

“Senator Masters?” Castiel asked, but Cecily was so lost in her rambling that she either didn’t hear him or couldn’t be bothered to answer him.

That was good. There was less of a chance that she’d hear Meg sneaking closer.

“He said it was a bad idea, that I’d already done enough. But look… if she dies… marriages don’t survive the death of a child, right?”

Meg would have been offended if she hadn’t been so frankly terrified. Even now, that a plan was forming in her head… so many things could go wrong…

Just hours before she’d seen a man dead lying on the floor with his head burst open by a bullet. The fear that Castiel could suffer the same fate paralyzed her for a second, but there was nothing else she could really do about it.

“Cecily… do you really think the senator will forgive you if you kill his daughter?”

“He’ll never know,” Cecily said, her voice trembling. “No one will tell him. I’m sorry.” She raised the gun to point it straight at Castiel’s chest. “I’m sorry you got caught in this…”

Meg couldn’t wait any longer.

She raised her cane and smacked Cecily right in the head with it.

Except she moved at the last second, so the cane went towards her shoulder instead. Cecily shouted, but her hand moved away, and the barrel stopped pointing at Castiel.

He lunged forwards.

His body collapsed against Cecily’s and they both hit the ground with a hollow thump. His hand closed like a shackle over Cecily’s wrist, trying to wrestle the gun out of her hand, while she buckled and screamed like a banshee underneath him.

“Run!” Castiel shouted.

Meg didn’t want to. Every instinct, every nerve in her body told her to stay where she was, that she couldn’t leave him, that she had to help him…

But the despair in his voice, the fear in his eyes injected a shot of adrenaline in her veins.

She turned around. Her legs weren’t always responsive on the best of days, but now they felt like she was pushing against concrete with every step she took. It took her a lifetime to reach the door, an eternity to come down the stairs. Cecily’s yelling, curses and other things she couldn’t understand, echoed through her ears…

Meg fell down. Her entire body hit the floor, her face sinking past the grass straight into the hard ground underneath. A sharp, searing pain went through her hand. The skin had broken against a rock and the blood was flowing out, red and steady.

She was thankful for the pain, though. It momentarily cleared the panic in her head. A semblance of a plan, something to hold on to, started forming in her head.

First, she needed to get to the car. She didn’t try to get up. She was going to need whatever strength was left on her legs for later. She crawled on her elbows, dragging herself until she could reach the door’s handle and use it to pull herself up. The door swung open, almost knocking her down again in the process. She managed to duck inside and get behind the wheel without falling again.

Castiel had left the keys on the glove compartment, thank god. Meg wasn’t sure how good of a driver she was going to be, but she needed to get to the town. Scream for help. Get someone to come to the farm. Her trembling fingers tried to get the key inside the ignition, one, two, three times before it fit. She refused to think that she was abandoning him, leaving him alone. No, she was going to get help, she was going to come back for him…

A shot echoed inside the house, like a firecracker going off.

Meg yelled and jumped back against the seat. A flock of birds took flight and for a second or two, they obscured the sun as they flew by. Or maybe it was her own brain, dizzy and terrified, that was simply giving up on her.

But she refused to give into it. She had to go on. She had to…

Her fingers refused to turn on the ignition. She couldn’t leave. She had to know what had happened. She had to know if he was okay…

The house’s door swung open and Castiel walked outside.

He seemed unharmed. The gun was in his hand. He looked at it like he couldn’t remember how it’d got there, but he let the magazine and all the bullets fall to the ground before he tossed it aside.

Meg scrambled to open the door again and managed to take a few steps before he broke into a run and caught her in his arms and held her tight against his body.

“Oh, my God,” Meg sobbed, hiding her face against his chest. “Oh, my God, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” he said, his fingers running through her hair. “I’m fine, Meg. But… she’s going to need your help.”

Meg was so overwhelmed by the relief to know he was okay that for a second or two she forgot who he was talking about.

Inside the house, there was a trail of blood. Cecily was at the end of it, dragging her useless leg behind her. She was heading for the kitchen, maybe trying to find a back exit. She stopped moving when she saw them coming in.

She looked pathetic, with her black hair all disheveled, her glasses broken on the floor next to her, and her usually perfect make-up smeared all over her face. She must have been in incredible pain, with her leg busted up like that, but her expression was eerily serene when she looked up at Meg as she grabbed the big knife she’d been chopping fruits with and gave it a quick wash in the sink.

“Are you going to kill me?” Cecily asked, in a voice so soft it almost didn’t sound like herself.

“Don’t be stupid,” Meg said. She sat next to her and cut the leg of Cecily’s trousers to take a look at the wound. “That would be against my oath.”

Despite Meg making a tourniquet on her leg, Cecily still passed out from blood loss in the fifteen minutes it took for the ambulance that Castiel called to get there. She didn’t even wake up when they put her up on a stretcher and took her away. Meg could have insisted on going with her (she was her patience, in a strange kind of sense now), but she didn’t feel particularly inclined to do so.

She’d tried to kill her dad, after all. She’d tried to kill her boyfriend. She’d tried to kill Meg herself twice. So, if Meg wanted to not particularly care if Cecily lived or died, she believed she was entitled.

Plus, there were a lot of questions that needed answering right there on the farm.

Sheriff Jody Mills turned out to be a small woman with short black hair who knew Castiel very well.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” was the first thing she said when she arrived. “But now, I’m gonna need you to tell me what in the goddamn hell happened here.”

Meg decided she liked her.

Castiel gave her the short version of events: he was staying there with Meg while his aunt and Cain were away. Cecily had come into the house under false pretense and threatened them with a gun. Castiel had fought her and shot her in self-defense.

Sheriff Mills immediately caught on to the fact there was a lot more going on there.

“Come on, you’re going to tell me that the woman simply snapped and decided to kill her boss’ daughter for no reason?”

“I don’t think we should discuss this until Agent Henriksen gets here,” Castiel said.

Henriksen was still half an hour away, according to his message, but Sheriff Mills accepted this and left them alone to sit on the porch’s steps, with the blankets the paramedics had given them hanging over their shoulders. Meg immediately curled up against Castiel’s chest, picking at the bandage around her hand and trembling as all the tension in her body that she’d been holding since… she couldn’t remember when.

And it was so nice to just have him there, with his arm around her, shielding her against the world…

“Is there anything wrong?” he asked her when she raised her eyes at him.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Meg said. Except that she could have lost him. Cecily could have taken the gun from him and… and she hadn’t told him. She had to correct that now. “I love you.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise. He stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” Meg asked, scared all of the sudden that he’d hidden something from her, that maybe what he was regretting what he’d said before. She was ready to explain to him that her life wasn’t always a parade of her dad’s mistresses trying to kill her, but then he spoke:

“Nothing, it’s just… does it really count if you say it after a near death experience?”

Meg punched him in the bicep and immediately snuggled against him again.

“I’ll let that one slide just because you could’ve got shot for me.” She kissed him right under the ear. “Though, does it count if you’re getting paid for it?”

“I would have done it for free,” Castiel clarified.

Meg shuddered. He needed to stop casually dropping those feelings bombs on her, especially when she was still shaken about Cecily. She’d never liked her, by holy shit, she’d never imagine her dad’s secretary could be such a psychopath. That explained her wishing that “they could get along” that day when she’d had lunch at her parents’ home. Cecily had been coming down the hall and Meg now suspected she’d just lifted the list of test subjects from her computer to set her up for the van to crash into them…

“Who was she working with?”

Castiel’s voice was so low he probably hadn’t even realized that he’d said that out loud.

“What?”

“Cecily, she… she said that ‘he’ didn’t want her to come here,” Castiel explained, shaking his head. “She wasn’t referring to your father. She said ‘they’ were trying to put pressure on them…”

“She wanted him to divorce my mom,” Meg realized. Her thoughts were now running wild as she realized where Castiel was going with this. “But… what if this other person wanted my mom…?”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but she didn’t have to. One look at Castiel’s face told her he was thinking the exact same thing.

Henriksen’s black federal car parked right next to Jody Mills’ and her reinforcements. He stepped outside and practically ran towards them.

“What…?” he started saying, but Castiel stopped him before he could go on.

“Agent, you need to find out where Fergus Crowley is right now.”

* * *

Anna Milton’s piece on the attack on Senator Masters’ family got her a nomination to several journalistic awards. After all, it had everything: political intrigue, a virtuous senator and his idyllic family hiding secrets from each other, a breathtaking climax in the JFK Airport in which Fergus Crowley had been about to board a plane to his native Scotland… and from there, to a number of countries with no extradition treaty.

He was a much bigger villain in the piece that Meg had imagined. The way Anna wrote it, Crowley had manipulated a mentally unbalanced young woman and got her to do his dirty work for him for revenge against a boss that had kept him away from the woman he lusted after. And, hell, maybe he had been the bigger bad guy all along: after all, he’d got the actual jail sentence while Cecily was institutionalized in a psychiatric facility.

It really didn’t matter. What mattered was, that accepting to be a source for the story had immediately put Meg in Anna’s good graces.

“Don’t be silly, it’s not that!” Anna said while they were sitting in their new apartment’s dining room, waiting for Castiel to bring out his latest culinary creation. “I’m just… I’m really glad he found someone.”

“And you’re glad that I will finally stop sleeping in your couch!” Castiel screamed back from the kitchen.

Anna and Meg both laughed at that. It was true that after Meg’s lease was up, they had officially moved in together to a new place that had a home office so Meg could work from there the days she didn’t feel like going to the hospital and a kitchen that was adequately big for Castiel’s taste. But he’d practically been living with her in the months leading up to that, so this development had been a surprise to exactly no one.

“So, about the podcast…” Anna said.

Meg sipped from her glass of wine, considering the question. She’d accepted to talk about all of this to Anna thinking it would somehow exorcize what’d happened at the farm. And at the hotel. And at that street intersection near the hospital.

She’d still had woken up crying, after a particularly vivid nightmare in which things turned out much, much worse than they had, for months afterwards. The only reason she’d managed to get through all of that had been Castiel’s comforting presence in the bed by her side, always ready to hug her and console it even though he was struggling with all of it himself.

“Sometimes I stay up for hours, listening to your breathing,” he’d confessed one time when Meg brought it up. “I just… I can’t believe we’re here. I can’t believe we survived all of that and we’re together and we’re fine.”

Meg couldn’t really say anything to that. Because she did and thought the exact same thing sometimes.

“This isn’t healthy.”

“No, it isn’t,” Castiel agreed.

“But I love you and I want this to work out,” Meg replied. “So, I’m thinking… maybe we can go to therapy together? As a bonding experience, maybe?”

She thought it was going to be really strange to say that out loud, but Castiel didn’t seem to think so. He’d smile softly, the way he did when he was happy about something.

“I think that’s a great idea. It’s not that I have that much to do right now.”

Her father had agreed to pay him several of the provisional clauses in his contract, even though he hadn’t technically been harmed while protecting Meg. Castiel had used that to start a catering service. It was small and for now, his only clients were Meg and Rowena (though he never charged them for the lunches he brought them) and Billie, Rowena’s wife, who had hired him to provide for a couple of wakes at her funeral home already.

Meg had found that a bit morbid, but because he was literally incapable of not finding a bright side, Castiel had said that it made him happy to know his food was consoling people through one of their hardest moments.

“Besides, I am cooking. Well, I never stopped, but I’m doing it for a living again,” he said, and he really did seem happy about that. “I feel like… I’m taking back some of the things April took from me.”

Meg really liked that idea, of taking back as much as she could. So maybe that was why when Anna asked her about participating on the post again, she said:

“Sure. Why not, you know? It’s not like my parents can get any madder at me for airing our dirty laundry.” She laughed as she remembered the exact phrasing her mother had used. It had been such an issue Meg regretted not asking Anna to keep her anonymous.

But only a little bit.

“How are they doing?” Anna asked. “Off the record, of course.”

“Well, it’s going to be public knowledge after tonight anyway,” Meg replied. She sighed and stared at the ceiling. “They’re doing what they should have done forty years ago and getting a divorce.”

“Damn!” Anna shook her head. “And how are you handling it?”

“I am elated. Also, staying far, far away from that entire mess. Tom has already invited Cas and I to go to California when the so-called mediation starts.”

Castiel pushed the kitchen’s door open and proudly presented a platter of the most beautifully golden chicken Meg had seen. Both her and Anna clapped while he took a bow like an actor on a stage.

“Oh, it’s almost time,” Castiel reminded her.

Meg grabbed the remote control and turned the TV’s volume up.

“… the first reports say there has been an upset in several states across the country. In Kansas, incumbent Senator Azazel Masters has just conceded to freshman congressman Samuel Winchester…”

The face of Meg’s father became enlarged on the screen. He was alone on the stage.

“I want to congratulate Sam on a race well-run. He is an excellent young man and I believe that he will serve our state’s interests to the very best of his abilities…”

He did not sound happy at all.

“On his part, Elected Senator Winchester addressed the crowd at his rally like this…”

The first several seconds of the footage were of Sam not actually addressing anything, because the roar of the crowd simply didn’t permit him to speak. Meg watched him smile and wave at the crowd, with an arm wrapped around Eileen’s waist. Even though they were being filmed from a distance, Mary Winchester’s ring was clearly visible on her hand.

“Thank you! Thank you, everybody! This victory could not have been possible without every single one of you!” Sam said when the crowd finally let him speak. He moved his hands as he spoke, accompanying his words with the correspondent sign. “But I want to give a special thanks to my brother Dean, who was with me at every step of the way, and my wife-to-be, Eileen Leahy.”

He turned to her and signaled something else. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was, though. The crowd went insane with coos and cheers.

And Meg found out she didn’t feel bitter about it. She was glad for him. Genuinely glad. Just like she knew he would be for her if he saw her sitting with Castiel in their living room right now.

“Oof. No wife, no Senate seat,” Anna pointed out. “Your dad’s not going to be happy.”

“No, he won’t,” Meg said. She stretched her hand and grabbed Castiel’s. “But you know what? I think he’ll be fine in the end. I think we’ll all be.”

Castiel kissed the scar in her palm to signal his agreement.


End file.
